Discoveries
by Vinsmouse
Summary: While working undercover, Joe makes a startling discovery. Angst, Slash M/M pairing , Violence
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own The Hardy Boys, not making any money, just cheap thrills.

Warnings: Angst, Slash(not graphic), Violence

Rating: FRT

Summary: While working undercover, Joe makes a startling discovery

Discoveries

Chapter 1

Fenton peeked into the living room, smiling affectionately at his sons who lay sprawled out watching their latest dvd. "Boys could you come into my office please?"

Frank looked up from the movie, giving his dad a curious look, "Sure Dad, be right there," he answered for them both. Picking up a pillow, he tossed it at his brother, pulling his attention away from the television.

"What'd ya do that for?" Joe demanded, picking up the pillow to toss back.

"Dad wants to see us in his office," Frank explained before his brother could launch the missile.

Joe laid the pillow aside and hopped up from the chair he was sprawled in. "Well why didn't you just say so?"

"Joe you were so engrossed in the movie you didn't even hear Dad, what makes you think I would've had any better luck?"

"Good point," Joe replied with a grin.

Pushing open the door to their father's office, he quickly claimed the couch, sprawling out so that his brother would have to take the chair.

Fenton watched the boys with an amused smile as he waited patiently for them to get settled in their seats. "Boys I have a case I need your help with."

"Sure Dad," Joe quickly agreed, eager for another mystery to solve.

"What do you need Dad?" Frank, the more practical of the two, asked.

"What do you two know about pirated dvds?"

"I know that there's a lot of money to be made from them." Frank answered.

"Yes son, there is," Fenton confirmed. "The movie and television industries lose billions of dollars a year to pirated dvds. I've been investigating a pirating ring in New York but I've run into a snag."

"What kind of snag?" Frank asked.

"How can we help?"

Fenton smiled, "We have a couple of suspects, we don't think they're really high up in the ring but they could lead to the top guys. The problem is we have no evidence that would allow us to bring them in for questioning, which means we can't lean on them to give up their bosses. What I need from you boys is some undercover work." Fenton opened up a couple of folders, handing one to Frank and one to Joe. "Doug Powers," he began, "works in the offices of Global Import/Export Incorporated. You'd be going undercover Frank, as a clerk in that same office. Try to become friends with Powers, see what you can find out."

"Will the office manager know that I'm undercover?"

"Yes, we've investigated her thoroughly and are certain she has nothing to do with the piracy ring." Turning to Joe, he explained his role. "The man you'll be attempting to get close to is Dale Morris, he works on the docks themselves, also as an employ of Global."

Frank frowned, his suspicions immediately raised by this news. "Dad, are you sure that Global isn't involved in the piracy ring?"

"We're sure Frank. We've checked everything, surreptitiously of course, and the shipments of dvds we've found being funneled through Global were off the books. The company doesn't know anything about them, all of the paperwork begins and ends in that office. These men aren't stupid though, they've made sure to use different names on the paperwork, none of them actual employs of Global, making it impossible to prove who is guilty. So, what do you boys think?" Fenton asked, leaning back in his chair.

"We'll do it!" Joe enthusiastically agreed.

"We will?" Frank asked with an arched eyebrow. He fully intended to say yes, he just couldn't resist the opportunity to tease his brother.

"Don't you want to do it Frank?" Joe asked, puzzled by his brother's reaction.

"I don't know Joe," Frank replied thoughtfully. Rubbing his chin he pretended to think about it, much to his father's amusement. "I mean this country was founded on the principles of freedom and we do have a free market economy. Do we really have the right to interfere with somebody's business?"

Joe stared at his brother, shock clearly written on his face. "Ha, ha, very funny big brother," he sarcastically replied as he realized what Frank was doing.

"Had you going for a minute, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you got me," Joe good-naturedly agreed.

Frank grinned, it wasn't very often that he got to play a joke on his brother, usually it was the other way around. Turning back to his father, he quickly got down to business. "What are our names and cover stories?"

"You'll go in as Frank Simmons, you come from a wealthy family. Your father, tired of your refusal to work, kicked you out and cut off your allowance. With no real world experience, this low-level clerk job was all you could find and you're angry over being forced to do without the things you're used to."

"Got it, I know exactly how to play it."

"Good, now Joe."

"Yes Dad?"

"You'll go in as Joe Harris, you've just moved to New York after having aged out of the foster care system. You've been living in Middleport and wanted to get away from the small town where everybody knew you and you couldn't get a fair shake."

Joe grinned, "Let me guess, Dale grew up in foster care?"

Fenton smiled, "Very good Joe, that's exactly right. Any other questions?"

"When do we start and how do we get in touch with you?" Frank asked.

"You start Monday morning," Fenton replied. "Staying in touch will be a bit more difficult. Of course if either of you suspects you or your brother are in danger, call immediately. For normal contact though, Joe will have to pass any information he finds to Frank in the guise of normal paperwork, or after work. Frank, having family, can contact me and if anybody asks he's calling his older brother. We'll use the usual codes of course."

"Yes sir," both boys answered simultaneously. "Will we need any kind of disguise?"

"No, I don't believe that will be necessary."

"Where will we be staying?"

Fenton frowned, this was the part that he disliked the most. "You'll have to live in the city and I'm afraid the apartments you'd be able to afford on your salaries aren't very nice."

"That's okay Dad, after all we need to be in character," Joe soothed his father.

"I know Joe, but, well as you say it's necessary. I've made sure they're as nice as possible and they're in the same building so you'll be able to keep an eye on each other. Here are the adresses and keys," he said as he handed them each a slip of paper and a key. "You will each have a cell phone, the pay as you go type. I don't believe anybody will find that suspicious. Many people today don't have a land line but only a cell phone."

"Sounds good," Frank mumbled as he looked over the information he'd been given.

"Well you boys better get started on the arrangements you'll need to make."

"Yes sir," they both said.

"Hey Frank you mind if I take the van down to Goodwill?" Joe asked as they left the office.

"Good idea Joe, as a foster kid you wouldn't have real good clothes."

"Exactly what I was thinking."

"Sure Joe. Just be back by six, I have a date with Callie."

"No problem."

Joe looked around the docks, hoping to spot his target. He smiled as he spotted him. Unobtrusively he made his way towards where the other man was working and began to pitch in. He didn't speak to Dale though, having decided that as a foster kid he wouldn't be likely to be quick to strike up a conversation. Silently he worked, occasionally casting a glance in Dale's direction.

Dale had noticed the looks the new guy was shooting his way. Having been warned by his boss of the ongoing investigation, he was feeling extra cautious, making him jumpy. "Can I help you with something?" Dale demanded.

"Sorry," Joe mumbled. "I'm new in town and I was trying to decide if I should introduce myself, guess not," he explained, sounding disappointed.

Dale smiled, "New in town huh? What's your name?"

Joe smiled, looked like he had successfully alleviated the man's suspicions. "Joe Harris."

"I'm Dale Morris. Where you from?"

"Middleport," Joe replied with a scowl.

"Didn't like it?" Dale asked as they continued to work.

"Not much there for somebody like me."

"Somebody like you?" Dale asked, his interest piqued.

"Foster kid, people there looked at me like I was trash. I figured to get out of there as soon as I aged out of the system, which I did last week. Took the money I'd saved up from working odd jobs and came to the city to make my fortune," Joe explained with a grin.

"I know what ya mean man," Dale sympathized. "It's even worse if you're a gay foster kid," he added, testing the waters.

Joe swallowed, quickly glancing away to hide his surprise. Realizing he could use this to his advantage, he mumbled an agreement as he prayed he could pull this off.

"Hey man, you ain't got to worry about me," Dale assured him, misreading his body language as fear of condemnation. "I'm gay too."

"That how you picked up on it?" Joe asked, playing along.

"Yeah, but you hide it real well."

"Might be cause I only figured it out recently," Joe explained.

"That might be it," Dale agreed. "Want to go out after work? Grab a pizza?"

"Um, yeah, okay," Joe stuttered uncertainly.

"Don't worry Joe, I won't jump your bones," Dale assured him. "Unless you want me to," he added, waggling his eyebrows at him in a lecherous manner.

Joe blushed, "Thanks," he mumbled.

Dale grinned, "You're cute when ya blush," he teased, his green eyes twinkling. He laughed out loud when this brought a deeper blush to the younger man's cheeks. "Where do you live?"

"Um, why don't I just meet you?" Joe suggested.

Dale nodded, remembering how nervous he had been when he'd first gotten out of foster care. "Sure man, do you know where Luigi's is?"

"No."

"I'll give you the address at lunch time."

"Okay."

"Meet you about seven?" Dale asked.

"Sounds good."

"Harris, Morris, you two aren't getting paid to chit chat, get back to work!" the foreman yelled.

"Sure thing boss, just trying to make the new guy feel welcome," Dale grinned as he turned back to the crates they were stacking.

"How'd it go?" Frank asked as he stood in the kitchen of Joe's apartment.

"Not bad, I'm going out for pizza with Dale in a little while." He didn't explain to his brother the true nature of the meeting. Joe wasn't sure which was the bigger reason, to keep Frank from worrying or to keep himself from being teased.

"That didn't take long."

Joe shrugged, "He's a friendly guy."

"He's also a big guy Joe, I saw him out on the docks today."

"So?"

"So, he's got at least four inches and fifty pounds on you."

"We're just going out for pizza Frank," Joe sighed. He loved his brother, he really did, but sometimes he took his job as the older brother a little too seriously.

"Just be careful Joe, that's all I ask."

"What about your guy, any progress?"

"No," Frank scowled. "Doug Powers is a very suspicious man, it's gonna take time to get him to let his guard down."

"Well I'm sure you'll manage it Frank" Joe responded with confidence.

"I hope so. Guess I better get going so you can get cleaned up, and Joe..."

"Be careful," Joe finished the sentence. His grin as he watched his brother leave the apartment gave no hint to the nervousness he felt over going out with Dale. He prayed he could pull this off. As he cleaned up, getting ready for his date, Joe blushed at that thought, his mind was feverishly working on excuses for why he couldn't do anything beyond a kiss. "Oh damn," Joe whispered. "I might have to kiss him, I can't do it," he moaned. "Stop it Hardy, you have to keep your cover and Dale thinking you're gay is the best way you have to get close to him. It's no different than if you had to kiss a girl to keep your cover intact," he tried to tell himself. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he forced himself to calm down as he continued to get ready. All too soon, in Joe's opinion, it was time to leave the relative safety of his apartment. "Sheesh Joe, it's just a date, you're not going off to war," he chuckled to himself.

Dale sat in a booth at Luigi's, impatiently waiting for Joe's arrival. Running his fingers through his dark hair, he tried to calm down as he reminded himself that it was only their first date, if it could even be called a date. Joe had only recently discovered he was gay, he reminded himself. "Have to move slow," he whispered. The bell above the door jingled, bringing Dale's head up. He smiled at the gorgeous young man who stepped through the doorway, "Joe, over here," he called, waving him over.

Joe smiled nervously as he made his way through the restaurant to the booth where Dale sat. "Hey Dale," he greeted as he slid into his seat.

"Glad you could make it Joe, have any trouble finding the place?"

"Nah, it was easy to find."

"Good, so how long have you been in New York?"

"Not long, just got here a week ago."

"So you just turned eighteen?"

"Yeah, ten days before I moved here."

"We have to celebrate," Dale grinned.

"No reason to, just another birthday."

Dale's grin faltered, he'd forgotten how unimportant birthdays were when you were a foster kid. "Hey," he softly spoke, laying his hand over Joe's, "it's not just another birthday. It's the one that freed you from the system and brought you to the city so we could meet."

Joe smiled, "I hadn't thought of it that way."

"I understand, it's hard to feel special when you're just one more case in an overloaded system."

"Yeah," Joe softly agreed. "So how long have you lived in New York?"

"Three years, I was living in upstate New York until I aged out of the system. I was like you, figured I'd move to the city where there was more opportunity and fewer stares from people that thought I wasn't as good as them."

"You boys ready to order?" the waitress interrupted their conversation.

"What kind of pizza do you like Joe?"

"Anything but anchovies."

"We'll take a large pie with everything except anchovies and I'll have a draft beer to drink."

"I'll just have a coke, thanks."

"Got it, be back in a few with your drinks."

"What happened to your family Dale, if you don't mind me asking?"

"My folks died in a car wreck when I was ten, there wasn't anybody else and I went into the system. What about you?"

"Dad died when I was four, Mom went three years later."

"Been in the system since?"

"No, I didn't go in until the year after Mom died. There was an elderly aunt on my dad's side that took me in, but then she had a stroke and there wasn't anybody else."

"Here you go boys," the waitress interrupted again, setting their drinks in front of them.

"Thanks for inviting me out Dale, it's kind of lonely in the city."

"I'm glad you said yes," Dale smiled. "So, besides pizza what do you like?"

Joe grinned as they began to talk about their likes and dislikes. As they talked, he found himself relaxing more and more, even managing to forget that, at least in Dale's mind, this was a date. By the time the evening ended, he had discovered that he and Dale shared a love for photography and muscle cars. "What's your dream car?"

"A sixty-seven Chevy Impala," Dale replied with a grin. "I'm gonna own one someday, you just watch and see," he vowed. "What about you?"

"Sixty-nine Dodge Charger," Joe replied.

"Like the Dukes of Hazzard? Well you do look something like Bo, got somebody in mind for Luke?" he teased.

Joe blushed, "Did you watch that show too?"

"Yeah, it was a fun show."

"Did you ever wish you lived there?"

"Sure, I think most kids that watched it did. You gonna paint your charger like the General Lee?"

Joe frowned, "Actually I was thinking of a nice dark blue."

"That sounds good, I'm planning on black for my Impala."

"Nice," Joe nodded appreciatively. Glancing up at the clock, he was surprised to see how late it was. "Oh man, we better get going if we're gonna make it to work in the morning."

"Huh?" Dale shook himself, reluctantly tearing his eyes away from Joe's face. "Oh, yeah guess we better. You live far from here?"

"Not too far, figured I'd walk."

"Mind some company?"

Joe thought it over, after a moment he came to the conclusion that Joe Harris would probably accept the offer. "I don't want you to go out of your way."

"Where do you live?" Dale asked. "That's only a couple of buildings down from mine," he grinned after Joe gave him the address. "You want any dessert?"

"No thanks," Joe declined.

As they walked out of the restaurant a few minutes later, Dale reached for Joe's hand. He frowned when Joe flinched and pulled away. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Joe kicked himself, way to go Hardy, gonna blow your cover if you're not careful. "No, I'm sorry...it's just, well what if somebody sees us?" he asked, blurting out the first excuse he could think of.

Dale chuckled, "You're cute ya know that? Joe, this is the big city remember? Nobody is going to care about two guys holding hands."

"Oh," Joe mumbled. "Guess you're right."

"I know I'm right," Dale vowed, again reaching for Joe's hand.

Expecting it this time, Joe didn't flinch, even managing a small smile for the older man. They walked in silence, each of them lost in thought. Soon they stood outside Joe's building, and the moment Joe had been dreading had arrived, he prayed he wouldn't give the game away.

"I had a nice time Joe," Dale softly spoke, pulling the blond close.

"Me too," Joe whispered, shyly glancing up into soft green eyes. He saw the look, recognizing immediately what it meant. Bracing himself, he closed his eyes as Dale lowered his head, his lips softly pressing against Joe's. It's just a kiss Joe, no different than kissing a girl, he told himself. Forcing himself to respond, he parted his lips, allowing Dale to deepen the kiss. It was like a jolt of electricity shooting through him! Suddenly he wasn't just acting a part, he was eagerly responding to the passionate kiss as he tightened his hold on Dale, pulling him closer.

"Wow," Dale whispered when the kiss finally ended.

"Yeah," Joe softly agreed, blushing furiously.

"I wish I didn't have to go."

Joe quickly took a step back, "Um, I'm not ready for that Dale. I'm sorry, I didn't..."

"Hey, shhhh, you don't have anything to apologize for," Dale soothed, pulling Joe back into his arms.

"I don't?"

"Of course not. I know you're new at this Joe, I'm more than willing to take my time."

"You are?"

"Yes, I are," Dale smiled. "I have the feeling you'll be worth the wait," he softly added. Lowering his head, he again brushed his lips over Joe's. Dale had been with a few men, but he'd never been affected this quickly or this deeply by any of the others. He moaned lightly as the kiss deepened, bringing a reaction from his body, a reaction he knew might scare Joe off. Reluctantly he broke the kiss, taking a step away. "Damn, that could get addictive."

"Yeah," Joe agreed, still dazed by his reaction to Dale's kisses.

"I better go," Dale said, though he made no move to leave.

"Yeah, me too." Giving himself a mental shake, Joe turned away and walked into the building. He could feel Dale's eyes on his back as he went inside, bringing a flood of warmth to his face. Quickly he made his way up to his apartment, thankful that Frank wasn't waiting for him outside the door. Still in a daze, Joe let himself into his apartment. Walking into the bathroom, he stared into the mirror above the sink surprised that he looked no different. He should look different, how could his world turn upside down and leave him looking as he always had?

TBC

Hope y'all are enjoying my first attempt at a Hardy Boys fic. Please feed the muse with reviews, a happy muse is a productive muse.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hardy Boys, not making any money, just cheap thrills.

Warnings: Slash, Angst

Rating: FRT

Discoveries

Chapter 2

Joe dragged himself out of bed the next morning, having fallen asleep only a couple of hours earlier, after a night spent tossing and turning. Stumbling to the bathroom, he showered and brushed his teeth. He nearly dropped his toothbrush when an unexpected knock sounded. "Just a minute," he called. Quickly rinsing his mouth, he pulled on clean pants and hurried to the door. Pulling it opened, he let his older brother into the apartment. "Hey Frank, what are you doing up so early?"

"I have work too Joe," Frank replied, puzzled by his brother's question.

"I know that, but the office people don't have to be in until nine."

"That's true, but I thought we could have breakfast together."

Joe shot his brother a knowing smirk, "You mean you thought you'd check up on me."

Frank smiled sheepishly, "Okay, you caught me."

"You didn't need to worry Frank, we just went out for pizza."

"Find out anything?"

Joe turned away, using the excuse of finding something for breakfast to avoid eye contact with his brother. "Not really, just that he likes photography and fast cars."

Frank eyed his little brother suspiciously, what was Joe hiding, he wondered. "That's good, it'll give you a way to get closer to him." Suspicion was turning to concern as his younger brother gave an almost imperceptible flinch. "What happened Joe?"

"Huh? What do you mean?" Joe nervously asked.

"I mean," Frank began, laying a hand on Joe's shoulder, "you're jumpy and nervous. Both good signs that you're hiding something, so what gives?"

Joe shrugged off the hand, knowing he'd never manage to lie to Frank with him too close. Normally he would tell his brother what was bothering him, just as he always had, but he couldn't tell him about this. "I'm not hiding anything Frank, just didn't sleep well. You know I always have trouble sleeping in the city, too noisy."

Frank nodded, he had to admit that was true. "You sure that's all it is?" he asked, still not entirely convinced.

"I'm sure, eggs or pancakes?" Joe asked, changing the subject.

"Eggs," Frank replied, "but I'll cook. You said it yourself, I've got more time than you. Go on and get ready little brother, breakfast will be waiting when you're done."

Joe smiled, "Thanks Frank." He quickly left the room, anxious to be alone for a few minutes. I should tell him, Frank would understand. What if he doesn't though? What if he tells Dad and he pulls me off the case? I can't let that happen, not until I figure out what's going on with me. Mechanically he got ready for the day. Turning to the door, he paused with his hand on the knob. Alright Hardy, you have to act normally or big brother is going to know this is more than just not sleeping well, he cautioned himself. Taking a breath, he turned the knob and walked out of the bedroom.

"Perfect timing, the eggs just got done," Frank informed him as he set two plates on the table.

"Thanks Frank, looks good." Sliding into his seat, Joe dug into the delicious breakfast. "So, you have any ideas on how to get close to Powers?"

"Actually I do," Frank smiled.

"And that would be?"

"I think he needs to overhear a conversation between Simmons and his older brother."

Joe nodded, "Think he'll take the bait?"

"I hope so," Frank replied. "I don't know about you little brother, but I don't want to spend my summer working in a stuffy office."

"Good point," Joe conceded. Raising his glass of juice, he saluted his brother with it, "Here's hoping he bites." Standing up, he carried his plate to the sink and rinsed it off, planning to wash dishes later. "Well I better get going, don't want to be late. See you later bro, lock up will you?" Grabbing the lunch he'd packed the night before, Joe quickly left the apartment.

"Sure Joe, see you later," Frank replied. Glancing at the clock, he decided he had time to help the younger boy out. Standing up, he moved to the sink and began washing the dishes.

Dale grinned, whistling happily as he arrived for work.

"What's got you so happy?" Tim Jones asked.

"Just in a good mood boss," Dale grinned.

"That good mood have something to do with the new guy?" Tim asked. He knew of Dale's proclivities, and while he didn't swing that way himself, he had no problem with it.

"Maybe," Dale replied.

"You just remember what I told you," Tim warned the younger man.

"I remember, but I don't think Joe has anything to do with the city's investigation," Dale assured his boss. "I don't get it boss," he continued, scratching his head in puzzlement.

"What don't you get?"

"Well, I know the city's been investigating down here, looking for safety and employment violations, but why are you worried? It isn't like Global has any safety violations, and there aren't any illegals working here."

"You forgetting about that under the table overtime you've gotten?" Tim asked.

"You think they'd cite Global for that?"

Tim sighed, he forgot sometimes that for all of his street smarts, Dale was still a very young man. Of course he didn't know just what it was he was loading during that under the table overtime, so he didn't see a reason to be that worried. "Yes they'd cite us. So, how sure are you that Joe isn't involved?"

Dale thought about it, "Pretty sure."

"Pretty sure? You better make damned sure before you let your guard down. I don't need the city getting all over me for violating union and employment rules."

"Yes sir. Don't worry, if Joe is working undercover he won't hear anything from me," Dale assured him.

Hearing his name, Joe paused with his hand on the door to the locker room. His heart sank as he heard Dale's words, any hope that the older boy wasn't involved quickly went down the drain. What did you expect Joe? You didn't really think Dad was wrong, did you? If he were honest, he had to admit he hadn't expected his father was wrong, but after last night he had hoped Dale would be proven innocent. Pulling open the door, he stepped into the locker room, behaving as though he'd heard nothing. "Hey Dale," he greeted the other man with a smile.

"Morning gorgeous," Dale grinned.

"Dale!" Joe squeaked, glancing nervously at Tim as a blush colored his cheeks.

Tim laughed, "It's okay Joe, I know about Dale and I don't have a problem with it."

Joe mumbled a response; stepping to his locker; he placed his lunch inside.

"You're not mad are ya?" Dale asked after Tim left.

Joe turned around, glad to see they were alone. "No, but I'm not used to being open and some of these guys wouldn't like the idea of people like us."

Dale nodded, "You're right Joe. I hope you know I would never do anything to place you in danger. I knew Tim didn't have a problem with it, that's why I wasn't worried. Around most of these guys I wouldn't be so open, even the ones that know I'm gay aren't gonna like it being shoved in their faces."

Joe relaxed, "I over reacted didn't I?"

"No," he assured. "You didn't have any way of knowing that Tim was okay with gay men, or that he knew I was gay. Am I forgiven?"

Joe grinned, "Yes you're forgiven."

"Good, want to come over to my place tonight?"

"Your place?" Joe repeated, his voice squeaking, as it tended to do when he was nervous.

"Yeah, I put a roast in the slow cooker when I left. I was thinking I could rent a movie for after dinner. Come on Joe, say yes. I make a mean roast," he tempted the younger man.

Joe smiled, "I do like roast."

"So you'll come over?"

"What time?"

"Six?" Dale asked as he grabbed a piece of paper and began to write.

"Six is good," Joe agreed, accepting the paper. Glancing at it, he saw it held Dale's address and phone number.

"Cool, and now we better get to work," Dale added, as the other men began to file into the locker room.

Frank arrived at the office a couple of hours after Joe had entered the locker room. He was surprised to find Doug Powers already hard at work. "You're here early," he commented.

"Need to catch up on paperwork," Powers responded without looking up.

Frank made no further attempts at conversation, Powers having made it obvious that he had no wish to talk. He worked through the morning, surreptitiously watching Powers while he checked over the paperwork for the various shipments going through the Global offices. Lunchtime came and Frank decided now was a good time to put his plan into action.

Grabbing his bagged lunch, he sat down at his desk, looking through an electronics catalog as he ate. He sat forward with a sudden movement, reaching for the phone he dialed the number listed in the catalog. Frank was well aware of Doug sitting nearby, listening attentively as he argued with the person on the other end of the phone. Angry and frustrated, he slammed the receiver down, just barely keeping himself from jerking the phone from the wall.

"Settle down Simmons, that isn't your personal phone," Powers admonished.

Frank turned to glare at him. "Shut up," he snapped, inwardly congratulating himself. "You'd be mad too if your father cut off your allowance and made you get a job where you could barely support yourself."

"Why'd your dad do that?"

"He thinks I'm spoiled and need to learn what it's like to live in the real world," Frank sneered. "I can't even buy myself a lousy computer with a dvd burner thanks to him."

"That's tough," Doug responded with false sympathy.

"Like you care," Frank snipped.

"You know what Simmons you're right, I don't care, I was just being polite. You're dad's right, you are spoiled. You can't afford the things you want and instead of finding a way to get them, you sit here and whine about it."

"You think I'm not trying? Everybody wants somebody with experience, this was the best job I could get."

Doug turned back to his lunch, casting speculative glances towards Frank as the younger man again picked up the phone and dialed. He listened attentively, while pretending not to, as Frank argued with his brother. By the time Simmons hung up, Doug was ready to offer to let him in on the deal he had going. First though, he needed to check with Tim; get his take on things. As far as he was concerned the formerly rich, spoiled Frank Simmons would be the perfect fall guy for their operation if the feds started closing in. He knew though that Tim would become very angry if he wasn't consulted, something he didn't want to deal with. So, he would wait.

Unaware of Doug's thoughts, he might be, but Frank was well aware of the other man's attention. Slamming down the phone, having lost the argument with his 'brother', he returned to his work. Scowling as he worked, Frank did a good job portraying an angry, put upon man while inside he celebrated the success of his plan.

At the end of the workday, Joe hurried home. He didn't have long to shower and change if he was going to make it to Dale's on time. As he pushed his key into the lock, a voice from behind startled him. Spinning around, he scowled at his brother, "Don't sneak up on me like that Frank."

"Sorry Joe, I didn't realize I was being that quiet," Frank quickly apologized.

Turning back around, Joe unlocked his door and stepped inside. "How did your day go?" he asked his brother, confident that the older boy had followed him inside.

"It went good, I got Powers' attention," Frank smiled. "What about your day? Did you make any progress with Morris?"

"Yeah, I'm hanging out at his place this evening. Did Powers say anything about the piracy ring?"

"Not yet, but the way he kept looking at me I'm pretty sure he's thinking about it. What's Morris' address?"

"Why?" Joe asked, startled by the question.

"So I can back you up," Frank matter-of-factly replied. "What's wrong with you Joe? You know we never go into a meeting with a suspect without back-up."

Joe sighed, "I know Frank, guess I'm just tired. You can't hang out around his apartment though, it'd be too easy for you to be spotted and there goes my cover."

Frank ran his fingers through his dark hair, "I don't like it Joe. What if he gets suspicious?"

"What's he going to get suspicious about? We're gonna hang out, watch a movie, have dinner. I do know how to maintain a cover you know," Joe sarcastically pointed out. He hated it when Frank treated him like a little kid who couldn't cross the street without having his hand held. Of course, he admitted to himself, there was also the fact that he wasn't ready to tell Frank about the changes in his life yet. "Look Frank, I hate to rush you but I need to grab a shower and change clothes."

"Okay, I'll get out of your hair just as soon as you give me Morris' address. Hold on Joe," Frank quickly stopped the protest his brother was about to make. "I don't plan to camp out in his hallway, but I need to know where you'll be just in case."

Joe sighed, "You're right, I should've realized. Hold on and I'll write it down for you." Grabbing a piece of paper, he quickly jotted down the address and handed it to his brother.

"Thanks Joe, what time will you be home?"

"I'll be home by ten and if I'm delayed I'll call you," Joe promised.

"Thanks Joe," Frank smiled. "I don't mean to be over-protective you know that, don't you?"

Joe smiled, "Yeah I know Frank. I do appreciate the concern, but you have to trust me to take care of myself."

"I do trust you Joe, it's other people I don't trust."

"Okay, I'll give you that Frank," Joe conceded, knowing his brother had good reason for worrying. Glancing at the clock, he was surprised to see what time it was already. "I've got to get ready now. Are we good?"

"Yeah, we're good little brother. You do what you need to, I'll see you later."

Thirty minutes later, Joe was standing in front of Dale's door, his hand raised to knock. Before he could drop his hand to the wood, the door swung open.

"Hi Joe, come on in," Dale grinned, stepping aside.

"Were you watching for me?" Joe asked with a smile. A grin crossed his face as Dale's cheeks turned red. "You're cute when you blush," he teased.

"Don't get used to it gorgeous," Dale retorted. "Not as cute as you," he added, enjoying the indignant look on Joe's face now that it was his turn to blush.

"You enjoy doing that, don't you?"

"Yep," Dale happily agreed. "Dinner's ready, you want to sit in the kitchen or the living room?"

"Kitchen," Joe easily decided. He knew he was much too nervous to chance eating on the couch. As it was, there was a good chance he would end up wearing his meal, especially if Dale kept looking at him like that.

"You got it," Dale turned, leading the way into the kitchen. "I've got Pepsi, water and beer, what would you like?"

"Not old enough to drink remember? Better make it Pepsi," Joe replied.

"Damn, there goes my plan to get you drunk and take advantage of ya," Dale teased.

"Sorry to spoil your plans. You know it'd help if you told me ahead of time what your plans are."

"I'll have to remember that. Have a seat, I just need to dish it up and we can eat."

Joe nodded, sliding into his seat. "So what movie are we watching?" he asked as Dale joined him.

"I splurged and rented two, Pirates of the Caribbean and The Chronicles of Narnia. I wasn't sure which you'd like so I wanted to give you a choice."

"I've been wanting to see Chronicles of Narnia," Joe truthfully responded. Between cases, schools and injuries, he still hadn't gotten to see the movie.

"Me too," Dale smiled. "It looks like it'll be really good," he added. "So, now I know you like fantasy movies, what else do you like?"

"Anything but horror."

"Got it, no horror movies." Dale ate a few more bites, trying to think of something else to say. "What got you interested in photography?"

Joe thought about his answer, his father had always said when weaving a story, stick as close to the truth as you could. "Mysteries..."

Dale swallowed hard, nearly choking on his last bite of food. Damn, Tim was right, Joe must be working for the city.

Joe jumped up, hurrying to the other side of the table, prepared to give the Heimlich. "You okay?" he asked as Dale reached for his own Pepsi, his coughing subsiding as he washed down his food.

"Yeah, didn't mean to scare you."

"What happened?"

"Food went down wrong," Dale explained. "How did mysteries get you interested in photography?"

"Watching television mysteries, when I was a kid I thought being a private detective would be great." He had still felt that way, right up until meeting Dale. Now, he would give anything to be just what the other man thought he was. "Out grew that part, but the photography stuck. I like how a picture can affect people, make them cry or laugh or just think about something from a new perspective. What about you?"

"Wildlife," Dale smiled softly. "I love spending time in the woods, but I never wanted to go hunting like a lot of boys. I'd rather hunt with a camera, than a rifle."

"Do you get to the woods very often?"

"Not as often as I'd like, but New York has plenty of wildlife," Dale grinned. "Just not the furry kind," he joked. "Hey, you want to see my darkroom?"

"You have your own darkroom?" Joe asked. He was surprised to hear it, he knew how expensive it could be to set up a darkroom. Unfortunately, it seemed like another piece of evidence pointing to Dale's guilt. "Sure," he replied, hiding the sadness he felt over this bit of news.

"Come on," Dale said. Pushing back from the table, he took Joe's hand, pulling him to his feet. "I'll warn you now it's not very big, but it gets the job done."

"Where'd you learn how to develop pictures?"

"Used books mostly, when I couldn't find anything used to cover what I needed I checked out books from the library."

"Smart," Joe admired. Stepping into the small darkroom, he looked around in honest admiration of the set-up. "You've got some nice equipment here, wish I could afford my own darkroom."

"You will someday Joe," Dale assured him.

"Yeah maybe, I did good to get a decent camera, it'll be years before I can get my own darkroom. Sorry, I didn't mean to whine," Joe apologized.

"It's okay, I know how it is. Tell you what maybe I can help you out."

"How?"

"Well I may know a way you can make some extra money, but in the mean time you're welcome to use my darkroom any time you want."

"Really?" Joe excitedly asked.

"Really," Dale smiled.

"Thanks Dale," Joe gratefully smiled. Inside he wanted to scream that it wasn't fair. Dale could easily become an important part of his life, but it looked like he'd never get the chance to find out. As soon as he had proof that Dale was involved in the piracy ring, he would have to tell his father and Dale would be arrested. Forcing those thoughts to the back of his mind, Joe focused on the present, determined to discover all that he could about himself while enjoying his time with Dale for however long he had.

"You're welcome Joe. Ready for the movie?"

"Sure am, you got any popcorn?"

"Of course, you get the Pepsi and I'll make the popcorn."

"You got it." They spent the rest of the evening cuddled on the couch, watching the movie and enjoying each other's company. All too soon the movie ended, glancing at the clock Joe was surprised by the time. Oh hell, it was after ten; Frank was going to have a cow. "I better get going or I'll never make it to work tomorrow."

"Walk you home?"

"It's not necessary."

"I want to," Dale whispered, holding him close. "You're new to the city, I'll worry less if you let me walk you home."

"Okay," Joe agreed. Reluctantly he left the warmth of Dale's arms. Sitting up, he reached for his shoes, returning them to his feet. Both young men were ready at nearly the same time. Still feeling self-conscious, Joe nevertheless held Dale's hand as they walked the short distance to his building.

"Which apartment is your's?" Dale asked as they stood outside the building.

"Number five," Joe replied, unable to think of an excuse to withhold the information. He stumbled as Dale began to lead him up the stairs to the front door of the building. "Dale, you don't have to walk me to my door," he protested as soon as he realized what the older boy was up to.

"I know, but I want to. Besides, a man should always see his date to the door," he pointed out. "Unless there's some reason you don't want me to," Dale added.

Joe could clearly hear the suspicion in the other man's voice. "No," he sighed, "no reason."

"Let's go then," Dale grinned, relieved by Joe's answer. Pulling open the door, he led the younger man down the hall, stopping in front of apartment five. "I had a good time gorgeous," he whispered. Taking Joe's chin in his hand, he tilted his head back, planting a passionate kiss on his pliant lips.

"Me too, I'm glad you invited me," Joe softly responded when the kiss ended. "You know you were right."

"Right?" Dale asked, his brow wrinkling in confusion.

"They are addictive," Joe whispered, pulling the taller boy down for another kiss. As they shared passionate kisses in front of Joe's door, neither young man was aware of the shocked witness who stood hidden in a shadowed corner.

TBC

Hope y'all liked it, please feed the muse with reviews. I'll do my best to answer all signed reviews.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hardy Boys, not making any money, just cheap thrills.

Warnings: Angst, Slash, Violence

Rating: FRT

Discoveries

Chapter 3

"I wish I could hold you in my arms all night," Dale whispered.

Joe trembled, though whether from desire or fear, he couldn't have said. "Someday," he promised, knowing that if Dale was proven guilty it would never happen. "You better go or neither of us will make it to work tomorrow."

"Yeah," Dale reluctantly agreed. Leaning down, he kissed Joe one more time, "See you tomorrow gorgeous."

Joe stood in front of his door, watching the older boy walking away and wishing things could be different. Turning around, he let himself into his apartment, swinging the door shut behind him.

Frank stood behind the staircase, staring at the scene in front of him. This must have been what Joe was hiding, but when had his little brother started liking men? Maybe he was just pretending for the sake of the case? Frank felt relief flood through him; that must be it. I need to set him straight, Frank thought to himself, nearly giggling at the unintended pun.

Joe had just toed his shoes off when there was a knock at the door. Smiling, he strode to the door and pulled it open, "Forget some...Frank," he gasped.

"Expecting somebody else?" Frank asked.

"What's up?" Joe asked, ignoring his brother's question as he stepped back allowing him to enter.

Frank stepped into the apartment, waiting for his brother to shut the door. "We need to talk Joe," he announced. Moving across the room, he sat down on the couch. He didn't miss the nervous way Joe licked his lips as he moved to sit in the matching chair.

"Look Frank I know I said I'd call but I didn't realize the time. When I did, it was only a little past ten and Dale insisted on walking me home so I didn't have the chance to call."

"That's not what I want to talk to you about."

"It's not?" Joe asked, clearly confused.

"I was in the hallway Joe," Frank quietly informed his brother. Though he tried to hide it, the older boy could clearly hear the accusation in his voice, he only hoped Joe would miss it.

It took a moment for the implications of Frank's words to sink in, when they did Joe felt the blood drain from his face. "It's none of your business," he snapped defensively.

"None of my business?" Frank yelled. "You're my brother, of course it's my business," he continued, lowering his voice.

"Not when you make it sound like I'm doing something wrong."

Frank dropped his eyes, wishing he could take back the accusing tone he'd used before. "Look Joe I know you want to solve this case for Dad but he wouldn't want you doing this," Frank tried again.

Joe stared at him, going over his brothers words, trying to make sense of them. "You think I'm pretending to be attracted to Dale for the case?" he asked, suddenly understanding.

"Of course and you shouldn't do it Joe," Frank spoke softly, confirming Joe's suspicion.

"I see," Joe mumbled. "Don't worry about it Frank, I can handle myself."

"Joe please, I hate to see you putting yourself in this position..."

"What position?" Joe interrupted the older boy. He could see that Frank had a problem with the idea of him being gay. That was obvious by the explanation he'd come up with for Joe's actions. Apparently it was easier for his older brother to think of him selling himself for the case, than to think he was gay. "If Dale were a woman you wouldn't see anything wrong with me dating him, no matter what the reason."

"You're right Joe, but Dale isn't a woman and you're not gay," Frank countered.

"What if I was?" Joe demanded.

Frank just gaped as his brother, why was he even asking such a question? "I never thought about it," he finally replied.

"Maybe you should." Standing up, Joe walked to the door and pulled it open, "I'm tired Frank."

"Joe?" Why are you mad? Don't you understand I'm just looking out for you? I don't understand what's wrong, please explain it little brother. Though unvoiced, all of these questions and more were contained in that one word as Frank joined his brother by the door.

"Just go Frank, please," Joe begged his older brother.

Frank continued to stare for a moment longer, finally he nodded and left the apartment. Turning back, intending to make one more attempt, he saw he was too late as the door was shut in his face.

Joe leaned against the door, tears spilling from his deep blue eyes. Sliding down the wood, he pulled his knees up to his chest as he tried to make sense of the conversation with his brother. He'd never known Frank to have a problem with homosexuals, apparently he'd been wrong. Or maybe it was just the idea of a queer, inwardly he winced at the word, in his own family that bothered him. What was he going to do now? Frank would probably tell Dad about what he'd seen and then his father would pull him from the case. Leaving his brother without proper back-up and robbing Joe of the chance to discover exactly where his new found desires might lead.

Down the hall, Frank paced the length of his living room, unable to come to a satisfactory decision about his brother. Several times he picked up his cell phone, once even going so far as to punch in his father's number. In the end though, he couldn't do it, calling their dad felt too much like a betrayal of his brother. Frustrated beyond expression, he ran his hand through his dark hair. What was he to do? Should he let Joe continue to pretend an interest in Dale or tell their father? Maybe he should just demand that the younger boy stop trying to get close to their suspect this way. "Oh right," he scoffed at his own idea. "Joe will certainly respond well to that Frank." Unfortunately, discarding that idea didn't really help him. He knew well enough what wouldn't work, the problem was in trying to decide what would work. You could try reasoning with him, a small internal voice suggested. Reason with Joe? he scoffed at first. On second thought, maybe it wasn't as crazy as it sounded. His brother might have a quick temper and a tendency to rush in where angels feared to tread, but if you could keep him calm he would listen to reason. Most of the time, Frank corrected himself. He had to find a way to make Joe see the danger of what he was doing. If Dale found out...a shudder ripped through him as he imagined the possible reactions of the larger man if he found out Joe was only pretending. No closer to a decision, Frank finally gave up and went to bed. Though, he didn't expect to sleep, he soon fell into a fitful slumber, filled with shock and fear fueled nightmares.

Joe finally pushed himself to his feet, stumbling off to his bed around one in the morning. Still reeling from the earlier conversation, he automatically readied himself for bed. Sliding between the sheets, he curled in on himself as he drifted into an uneasy sleep. His sleep, like his brother's, was filled with nightmares involving Dale. Several times Joe found himself jolted from sleep as his family, angered by his involvement with Dale, drove him from his home, turning their backs on him.

Finally, the ringing of the alarm ended his night of torment. Pulling himself from the bed, he mechanically got ready for work. Unlike the day before, there was no older brother to start the day with or to make him breakfast. His heart weighed down by grief, he stood beneath the streaming water of the shower, wondering if this what his life would be like from now on? After showering and dressing, Joe stepped into his small kitchen. Glancing around the room, he could easily see the scene of the day before. What little appetite he had deserted him, leaving him feeling vaguely ill. It was too early for work, but Joe couldn't face another moment in the apartment, being assaulted by memories, both good and bad. Tucking his wallet into his jeans, he grabbed his keys and escaped the suddenly too small space.

Joe paid no attention to where he was going as he walked aimlessly, his only intention to kill some time until it was late enough to go to work. Joe's awareness was returned to his surroundings by a rough voice.

"Hey man, where ya going?"

"Heading to work," Joe replied, moving to step around the red-headed man blocking his path.

"Without offering to buy us breakfast? That's cold man," with a motion of his hand, Red gave the order to attack.

Before he could make a move to defend himself, Joe found his arms pinned behind him by two strong men. Though not as tall as him, the two men were more than strong enough to hold the younger Hardy in place. Unable to use his fists, Joe used the only other weapon available to him. As Red closed in, he curled his hand into a fist; suddenly Joe pulled his knees to his chest and kicked out, catching the other man in the chest.

Red stumbled back, falling to the sidewalk where he lay glaring up at Joe. "That was a dumb move kid," he growled while pushing himself to his feet. "Take him into the alley boys, this just got personal," he ordered. He followed his buddies as they dragged the struggling blond into the dark shadows. Pulling a set of brass knuckles from his back pocket, he slipped them onto his hand, and waited while the other two pinned the boy against the wall, this time making sure he couldn't use his feet against them.

Joe stared defiantly at the twenty something punk. The sight of the brass knuckles filled him with fear, though he wasn't about to let Red or his buddies see it. Bracing himself for what was about to happen, Joe glared into the brown eyes of the grinning man in front of him as he drew his fist back. The first punch caught him in the solar plexus, driving the air from his body. Before he could do more than begin to take a breath he was hit again with an uppercut to the chin. The beating went on for an interminable length of time, the other man showing no signs of tiring. Finally, merciful darkness claimed the youngest Hardy, bringing momentary relief.

Red stepped back, nodding to his buddies. He smiled in satisfaction as the blond dropped to the ground, unconscious, covered in bruises and blood. Reaching down, he rolled the boy over, searching his pockets for any valuables. Grabbing his wallet, he pulled the watch from the boy's wrist and calmly walked away.

Dale arrived at work, a smile on his handsome face as he stepped into the locker room. He was surprised that Joe wasn't here yet, he hoped the younger man hadn't overslept. Putting his lunch away, he sat down at the table to wait. He had planned to talk to Tim about Joe getting in on some of the overtime work. He had quickly decided that the day Joe was late wouldn't be a good day to ask. By the time the other men began to arrive, Dale was starting to get worried. He had almost gone by Joe's apartment earlier, thinking to invite him to breakfast. However, he worried that the blond might see the invitation as pressure, so, afraid of scaring the younger, inexperienced man off, Dale had decided against it. A decision he was now kicking himself for as thoughts of what could have happened to Joe rushed through his mind.

"Morris, you seen Harris this morning?" Tim Jones growled an hour later.

"No I haven't, and it's got me worried," Dale replied.

"Worried? Why's that? He have a problem I should know about?" The boy hadn't seemed the type, but he wouldn't be the first man Tim had seen with a drinking or drug problem.

Dale scratched his head, confused for a moment. "Oh, no I don't think so. I meant cause he's new to the city, what if something happened to him on the way to work?"

"You think he got mugged?"

"He could have, or he might've seen something he wasn't supposed to."

Tim laughed outright at this, "You've been watching too many movies Dale. Still, he didn't seem undependable and muggings do happen. I tell you what, if we don't hear anything from him in half an hour we'll start calling the cops and hospitals. In the meantime, we've got work to do," Tim dismissed the younger man.

"Poor kid," Detective Schmidt shook his head as he watched the paramedics load the young blond into the ambulance. Turning away, he began to take a statement from the woman who had found the boy lying in the alley. Unfortunately she couldn't tell him anything, as usual in this neighborhood, nobody had seen a thing. Well, maybe when he woke up the kid would be able to tell them something. If not, it would be one more assault that would never be solved.

Dale looked around the docks for Tim, finally spotting him talking to a tall man in a brown suit. Hurrying over to the two men, he cleared his throat, getting their attention.

"What is it Dale?"

"It's been half an hour, can I go to the break room and make some calls?"

"Yeah, okay," Tim unhesitatingly gave his permission. "Dale," he called after him, "let me know what you find out."

"Will do," Dale quickly agreed. Running off, he headed straight for the break room, praying that he would find something about Joe's fate. The first call he made was to the local precinct house, but they had no reports involving a Joe Harris or anybody matching his description. Moving further afield, he called other police stations, along with hospitals, but nobody had seen Joe.

"Hey Schmidt, I figured out who our John Doe is," Sam Greene called to his partner.

Schmidt gave his partner a disinterested glance before returning to his report, "Yeah?"

"Yeah, Joe Hardy."

"Fenton Hardy's kid?" Schmidt asked, suddenly interested.

"Exactly," Greene confirmed. "I thought he looked familiar, even through all the bruises, so when I ran his prints I didn't just look at the criminal database. I searched the prints on file with those missing kid groups, you know the ones that go to schools and set up those cards for parents to keep."

"Yeah I know the ones, and the prints matched Joe Hardy?"

"They sure did, I already called his dad, he's on his way to the hospital."

Schmidt stood up, his report forgotten, "Let's be there when he arrives, I'd like to know what his kid was doing in that neighborhood."

The cell phone in Frank's pocket beeped, startling him as he was reaching for his cup of coffee. Glancing at the screen, he felt his blood run cold at the text message displayed on the screen. 'Joe hurt, meet at city hospital asap.' Hurrying to the manager's office, he made up a story, for the benefit of anybody who might be eavesdropping. Turning away, he quickly left the room, nearly colliding with Doug Powers.

"Where's the fire Simmons?"

"My old man's in the hospital, they think he might've had a heart attack," he explained, giving the same excuse he'd given the office manager.

"Thought you hated him?" Powers snipped.

"Yeah, well that doesn't mean I want him dead. Besides, if I show up and he survives maybe it'll get me back in his good graces," he winked.

"Good point, well you better get going if you're going to get yourself back in the will," Powers grinned as he stepped aside.

Forcing himself to slow down, Frank walked down the hospital corridor to Joe's room. Pushing open the door, he stepped inside, gasping at the sight which greeted him. Walking over to the bed, he gently brushed back the hair from Joe's bruised face. "Oh god, did Morris do this to him?" he asked his dad.

"Morris? Why would you ask that Frank?"

"Did he do it?" Frank ground out the question between clenched teeth.

"The police think it was just a random mugging," Fenton replied. Frowning, he repeated his earlier question, wondering what Frank knew that he didn't.

Frank debated his options, he could tell his father the truth, betraying his brother's trust and further damaging their relationship. Quickly discarding that idea, he went with his second option, "That's who he's supposed to get close to, I thought maybe he had figured out Joe was undercover."

"Not as far as we know, hopefully Joe can tell us more when he wakes up," Fenton responded. On the surface he accepted Frank's explanation, but his instincts were telling him that his oldest was holding something back.

"What did the doctor say?"

"He said his injuries are mostly just minor cuts and bruises, though plenty of those. The two most serious injuries are three cracked ribs and head trauma."

"Head trauma?" Frank asked, his face paling.

"They won't know how much damage there is, if any, until he wakes up," Fenton explained.

Four hours after Frank arrived at the hospital, a low moan signaled Joe's return to consciousness. Blinking his eyes, he opened them, slamming them shut almost instantly. "Turn it off," he whimpered, the light sending steel knives through his head.

Frank jumped up and quickly dimmed the light, "Is that better Joe?"

Cautiously, blue eyes slowly opened. Joe breathed a small sigh of relief, as he turned his attention to the man who had spoken to him. "Do I know you?"

TBC

I know; I'm evil. :) Hope y'all liked it, please feed the muse with reviews.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hardy Boys, not making any money, just cheap thrills.

Warnings: Angst, Slash

Rating: FRT

Discoveries

Chapter 4

Frank gaped at his little brother, this couldn't be happening his overwhelmed mind tried to deny. "I...I'm your brother," he finally managed to get out.

"I'll get the doctor," Fenton said, hurrying from the room.

"I don't have a brother." Joe closed his eyes, why would the guy be doing this? It didn't make any sense, "Who is he?" he asked, with a nod towards Fenton's back.

"He's our dad," Frank quietly replied.

"Why are you doing this? My dad died when I was little, by the time I was eight I was alone and in foster care," Joe bitterly informed the man claiming to be his brother. Before the older boy could think of anything to say, the man this boy said was his dad came back.

"The doctor will be here soon," Fenton informed them as he came back into the room. Looking down at Joe, he gently brushed the hair from his bangs, "How are you doing son?"

Raising his head from the pillow, he snapped, "I'm not your son!" Joe instantly regretted his fit of temper as it sent spikes of pain through his head. Grabbing the sides of his head, he lay his head back, squeezing his eyes tightly closed, he let loose a small whimper. "Why are you doing this?" he whispered.

"Calm down Joe," Fenton soothed his youngest. Exchanging a worried glance with Frank, he prayed the doctor would get here soon.

"How do you know my name?" Joe asked.

"Why don't we wait for the doctor to examine you, then we can see about answering your questions," Fenton suggested.

"Okay," Joe softly agreed. Truthfully he was too tired and his head ached too much to argue. He sure hoped the doctor would give him something to make the pain stop, or at least take the edge off of it. Nobody said anything after that, the three of them waiting in silence for the doctor to arrive.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Edwards," the tall, balding man introduced himself as he entered the room. Moving to the end of the bed, he picked up the chart and glanced through it. "How bad is your pain Joe?" he asked.

"Bad, could I have something for it?" Joe whimpered pitifully.

"Soon, first I need to ask you a few questions, is that okay?" The boy had taken more than one blow to the head, though thankfully only the one seemed to have been truly severe. However, one could never tell what effect a head injury could have on a patient and until he knew more he couldn't, in good conscience, give him anything for the pain.

"Okay."

"Can you tell me what day it is?" he smiled, making a note when Joe gave the correct date. "Who is the president of the United States?" again the boy answered correctly. "Do you know where you are?"

"In the hospital?"

Dr. Edwards chuckled, "Yes that's true, but I meant do you know what city you're in?"

"Oh; New York City. I just moved here, I used to live in Middleton."

The doctor raised an eyebrow at this, he had been under the impression the patient was from Bayport. "How old are you Joe?"

"I'm eighteen, just had a birthday a few days ago."

Dr. Edwards nodded, that was partially correct. According to the records given him by the patient's father, he was eighteen but his birthday had been several months previous. "Joe, can you tell me your full name and who the members of your family are?"

"My name is Joe Aaron Harris," he calmly answered. Oblivious to the gasps coming from the two men claiming to be his family, he went on. "I don't have any family, they all died when I was little."

"I see," he mumbled, making notes.

"Doctor, can I speak to you for a moment?" Fenton asked, nodding towards the hallway.

"Of course, I'll be right back Joe," he assured his patient. Following the other man into the hall, he quietly closed the door behind him. "Mr. Hardy, can you explain why your son would believe himself to have no family?"

"Yes doctor I can. You see I'm a private detective and though they're young, my sons sometimes help me. Joe has been working undercover on a case and the information he gave you matches his cover story."

"I see, most unusual," the doctor commented.

"Is there anything you can do for him doctor?"

"I'm afraid in a case like this the only cure is time," the doctor sadly replied.

"So we just take him home and hope his memory returns?" Deep inside, he had known that would be the case but he had hoped, that somehow, the doctor would have a way to help his youngest.

"Actually Mr. Hardy, that may not be the best idea."

"What do you mean?"

"Joe believes himself to be this person you created for a case, if you try to force him to go home with you he will very likely run at the first opportunity."

"What else can I do?"

"What were his living arrangements, as Joe Harris?"

"He has an apartment, his brother has one in the same building and they're working undercover at the same place," Fenton explained.

"So, if he returned to his life as Joe Harris, he wouldn't be truly alone?"

"No, I suppose not, but surely you're not suggesting I let him continue as Joe Harris?" Fenton was shocked, how could the doctor even hint at such a thing?

"Yes Mr. Hardy, that is exactly what I am suggesting. Usually, in a case such as this, the patient would either have total amnesia, or would suffer either short-term or long-term memory loss. What I mean is, if not a complete amnesiac, Joe should either be unable to remember recent events, while recalling those from long ago, or the reverse should be true. I have never seen a patient who remembers a false identity but not the true one. Frankly Mr. Hardy, I believe that if you force Joe to return to his life as your son you may very well lose him forever; as faced with the dichotomy of the two separate lives he will cling firmly to the only one he remembers. If you let him continue living as Joe Harris, he will most likely regain his true memories as he heals."

"But he's only eighteen," Fenton protested. "How can I allow this?"

"You said his brother is in the same building and workplace, he can keep an eye on Joe. It is of course up to you, but as Joe is an adult, unless he is declared incompetent by the courts, I will be forced to abide by his wishes."

Fenton glared at the other man, "Meaning?"

Dr. Edwards sighed, "Meaning that if Joe is physically well enough to be released I cannot dictate where he must go. Furthermore, while he is in the hospital he will be able to decide for himself who he will see and who he will not."

Fenton nodded, when this case had started he had never expected to be faced with a decision like this. Without another word, he pushed open the door and stepped back into the room, followed by the doctor.

"Doc, please can I have something for the pain?" Joe whimpered as soon as he saw the balding man.

"Soon Joe, just a one more question," the doctor gently replied. "Do you remember what happened to you?"

Joe closed his eyes tightly, memories of the attack instantly rising to the surface. "I was walking...killing time before work...they jumped me...tried to fight them...too many...dragged me into alley...brass knuckles...hitting me...again and again...last thing I remember...Red grinning." By now Joe was nearly hyperventilating as he recalled the events that led to him being hospitalized.

"Calm down Joe, you're safe now. Nobody can hurt you here," the doctor soothed. "I'm going to have the nurse bring you something for the pain, in the meantime is there anything else you need?"

"No...oh man, did anybody call my work?"

"Where do you work?"

"Global Import/Export, down on the docks."

"I'll make sure somebody notifies them, okay?"

"Ask for Tim Jones, he's my boss."

"Got it, you try to get some rest now." Making a few more notes on the chart, he left the room.

"Why are you still here?" Joe asked the other two men after the doctor left.

Fenton shot Frank a warning look, he didn't have time to explain right now. "I wanted to explain the misunderstanding."

"Misunderstanding?" Joe asked.

"Yes, you see my son Joseph is missing and you look a lot like him, so the police called me and told me they thought they'd found my son. Of course I rushed right down here, and you do look a lot like my Joseph, but I see now that you're not."

Joe watched the other man as he struggled to get his emotions under control, "You must love him a lot."

Fenton swallowed hard, "I do, I would give anything to have him back home."

"I hope you find him soon, I'm sorry you came down here for nothing." Though it wasn't his fault, he felt badly for the other man and couldn't help wishing there was something he could do for him.

Frank stared at his father, unable to believe his ears. What is dad doing? He couldn't be thinking of letting Joe continue to think he was Joe Harris? Didn't he understand it wasn't safe? What are you thinking Frank? Of course he doesn't know, you haven't told him yet.

"Thank you Joe," Fenton quietly responded. He smiled gently at the boy, even with the confusion over his identity, his Joe was still in there somewhere, his compassionate nature shining through. "We'll leave you to rest now, I hope you're feeling better soon."

"Thank you," Joe whispered.

Fenton grabbed Frank's arm, pulling him from the room before he had the chance to protest. "Not here Frank," he cut him off the moment they were out of the room. He knew his oldest had questions, but he couldn't chance Joe overhearing and it causing him to become upset. Leading the boy down the hall, he guided him into a small room set aside for the families of patients. Shutting the door behind him, he filled Frank in on what the doctor had said and his decision to go along with the suggestion.

"Dad you can't do that," Frank protested immediately. "It's not safe."

"Frank I told you what the doctor said and I believe he's right. Joe is eighteen, if we force him home he'll only leave and we may lose him for good. This way, there's a good chance his memories will return, giving your brother back to us."

"What if he remembers while he's with Dale and he blows his cover?" Frank asked. Just tell him the truth, his conscience whispered. I can't, not unless there's no other choice.

Fenton scratched his head, "I know it's a risk Frank, but if Joe runs he doesn't know anybody except Dale. At least this way you're in a position to keep an eye on him."

"Dad there's something you don't know, I just found out myself last night."

"Something that affects Joe's safety?"

"Yes sir, I was hoping he'd realize the danger of it and stop but now..."

"The danger of what son?" Fenton's voice was tight with suppressed emotion as he wondered what his impetuous youngest had gotten himself into now.

Frank took a deep breath, there wasn't really any easy way to say it. "Joe's been pretending to be gay and interested in Dale," he blurted out.

"He's what?" Fenton asked, shocked to the core. Of all the things Frank might say, this one had never entered his mind. His eyes softened as he realized what Frank was doing, "Son, I know you're worried about your brother, but next time come up with something a little more plausible."

"You think I'm lying?"

Fenton chuckled, "Joe pretending to be gay, why that would be like Chet Morton pretending to be a model. It's simply preposterous, though I will give you credit, you had me going for a second. Look Frank, I'm not crazy about this idea either, but right now it seems like the best option. Please just do your best to take care of your brother; and son, if you're going to make up a story to convince me of a danger, make it more believable," he smiled.

Frank shook his head, he couldn't believe his father thought he was making it up. "Fine Dad, we'll do this your way," he reluctantly gave in. "I just hope it doesn't blow up in our faces."

Tim rushed into the break room where he knew he'd find Dale Morris, "You can stop making phone calls."

Dale stood up, his face lighting up, "He's here?"

"No, but we know where he is," Tim quickly added when he saw the effect his answer had.

"Where?" Dale anxiously asked, terrified that Tim would say Joe was dead.

"Relax Dale, he's alive," Tim soothed. He smiled broadly, "You've really got it bad for this kid don't you?"

"Where is he?" Dale asked, ignoring Tim's question.

"He's at City hospital, he was mugged this morning. Sounds like they worked him over pretty good."

"Can I..."

"Go see him," Tim interrupted. They weren't very busy and he could spare the young man, besides if he was worrying about Joe he wouldn't be of much use anyway.

"Thanks," Dale grinned. Barely taking the time to clock out, he all but ran out of the break room. The moment he was clear of the building, he took off running for the subway, needing to reach Joe as soon as possible. Though there was plenty of room in the subway at this time of day, Dale remained standing. He was entirely too nervous to sit, he just hoped that Joe was going to be okay. Finally, after what seemed like hours, he arrived at the hospital and raced inside.

"No running young man, this is a hospital you know," an elderly lady admonished him.

"Yes ma'am, I'm sorry," he apologized. Forcing himself to slow down, he made his way to the information desk. Armed with Joe's room number, and a stuffed bear he'd gotten in the gift shop, he headed upstairs to the younger man's room. Stepping off the elevator, he paid no attention to the people around him, his focus on finding Joe and seeing for himself that he would be okay. Slowly pushing open the door, he moved inside the room and closed the door. Turning to face the room, he gasped in shock at the sight which greeted him. "Oh Joe," he whispered. Slowly he crossed the room, sinking into the chair next to the bed where Joe lay sleeping. "Oh baby, what did they do to you?" he softly questioned as he brushed back the hair from his Joe's face.

Moaning softly, Joe fought his way towards consciousness. Blinking open his eyes, he smiled when he saw Dale, "Hi," he rasped.

Immediately Dale grabbed the water pitcher next to the bed and poured Joe a glass. Slipping his arm behind the younger man, he helped him sit up so he could drink it. "Better?"

"Yeah, thanks," Joe smiled, leaning back against the pillow.

"How bad is it?"

"Not too bad, cuts and bruises, a couple of cracked ribs and a concussion," Joe rattled off the list of injuries. "Sorry to worry you."

"I should have come by this morning, if I had you wouldn't have gotten hurt."

"Not your fault Dale," Joe quickly assured him. "Unless you'd come by real early you would've missed me anyway."

"How's that?"

"I woke up early, so I went for a walk to kill time. I wasn't really paying attention to where I was."

"Aww Joe, baby, you've got to be more careful in the city. There's all kind of creeps out there that will hurt you any chance they get."

Joe blushed at the term of endearment, nobody had cared about him in so long he'd forgotten what it was like. "Believe me, I know that now. There were three of them, two held me while the third one," he shuddered, "used brass knuckles."

"Oh god," Dale gasped, realizing just how close he had come to losing Joe. He'd seen the kind of damage those things could do, "Please Joe, promise me you won't go out alone again."

"I promise," Joe easily gave into the request. He wasn't in a hurry for this to happen again, but mostly he wanted to wipe that worried, horrified expression from Dale's face. "What's that?" he nodded toward the bear held in Dale's other hand.

Dale looked down, smiling softly. "I got him for you, somebody to keep you company when I'm not around," he explained with a blush.

Joe smiled, his eyes lighting up with pleasure. "Thank you Dale, I can't remember the last time somebody gave me something so special."

"You're welcome baby," Dale grinned. Leaning down, he gently brushed a kiss over Joe's lips, "I'm glad you like him."

"You got him for me," Joe smiled, as if that explained it all and for him it did.

"Did the doctor say when you could go home?"

"I know he wants me to stay overnight for observation, I'm not sure about after that."

"You think they'd mind if I stayed the night?" Dale asked.

"I hope not, I really don't want to be alone," Joe replied with a soft smile.

"Then I'm staying," Dale decided. If Joe wanted him here, there was nothing anybody could do to keep him away.

"Thank you," Joe whispered. Feeling safe with Dale here, Joe grabbed the older man's hand in his, holding it over his heart. With his bear in his other arm, he drifted to sleep, secure in the knowledge that Dale would be here when he woke.

TBC

Hope y'all liked it. Please feed the muse with reviews.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own The Hardy Boys, not making any money, just cheap thrills.

Warnings: Slash, Angst

Rating: FRT

Discoveries

Chapter 5

Joe sat in his apartment the next day, trying to relax. "How can I rest when I don't know how I'm gonna pay the bills?" he mumbled to himself. It was easy for that doctor to say don't work for a week, he wasn't the one who had to worry about rent and food. At least he'd been able to talk Dale into going to work, no point in them both ending up homeless. Thoughts of Dale brought a smile to his face. Boy, he was really falling for the older man and fast. It felt so good to have somebody care about him, he just hoped nothing happened to mess it up.

Tim Jones walked into the locker room, "How's Joe?"

"Sore, but he's going to be okay," Dale smiled. "He's home resting like the doctor ordered and hating every minute of it."

"Well you tell him to enjoy it while it last and as soon as he's able, he's still got a job."

"That'll make him feel better, I know he's worried about it. Hey Tim, do you think Joe could maybe get in on some of that overtime work?"

"I don't know Dale, what if he's working for the city?"

"He's not, I'm sure of it."

Tim thought it over, he liked the kid and didn't mind giving him some help, but if he were working undercover... "Let me check him out and I'll get back to you."

"Thanks Tim."

Frank forced himself to continue his assignment, in spite of the fact that he wanted nothing more than to watch over his little brother. At least, since Joe couldn't work for the next week, he wouldn't have to worry about the younger boy during the day so much. The problem was going to be keeping an eye on him at night, without Joe knowing it.

"How's your old man?" Doug asked as soon as he walked in.

"He's fine," Frank snapped, staying in character.

"Still on his bad side?" Powers smirked.

"The old bastard figured I was only there to impress him," Frank replied.

"That's too bad," Doug offered insincere sympathy.

"Sure it is," Frank scoffed. "You probably think it's funny. The rich kid who suddenly has to work for a living. Can't afford the things I'm used to, hell I can barely afford to eat decent meals."

Doug's interest rose as Frank's tirade continued, "You interested in making some extra money?"

Frank's eyes lit up, "How?"

"I got a little sideline going here, after hours."

"Sideline?" Frank questioned suspiciously. "You aren't talking about drugs are you? I don't want any part of something like that."

"No man, no drugs. I just arrange to have a little extra cargo loaded onto some of the ships, or sometimes off-loaded."

"What kind of cargo?"

"Well Frank, that's on a need to know basis and you don't need to know."

Frank pretended to think it over, he couldn't afford to look too enthusiastic. "What would I have to do?"

Doug grinned, looked like their patsy was going to fall for it. "Not much, just make sure the paperwork is in order. Stamp it with a customs seal, sign the orders with different names."

"Doesn't sound hard, why don't you do it yourself?"

"I am Frank, but we don't want all the signatures to look the same, do we? Besides, I thought you could use the help, but if you don't want in that's fine. Just forget I said anything," Doug concluded, turning back to his work.

"I didn't say that, I just wondered. How much would I make?"

"I'll have to talk that over with my partner, but I imagine we could cut you in for a pretty good piece." Doug stood up and headed for the docks, "I'll be right back."

Frank waited for him to get out of sight. Jumping to his feet, he quickly followed after him. Patting his pocket, he assured himself that the miniature parabolic microphone was still there. Frank sure didn't want to miss the opportunity to gather evidence that would get Dale away from his brother. Hearing Doug's voice up ahead, he sidled up to the corner and carefully aimed the small microphone towards the voices. Fortunately he didn't need to turn on the voice activated recorder it was connected to.

"Hey Tim, you got a minute?"

"What's up Doug?"

"I talked to Simmons, he wants in?"

"Sweet, and he doesn't know what we're smuggling?"

"Nope, I don't think he cares either, as long as it's not drugs. It's just like I told you, he only cares about the money, he'll make the perfect patsy for my end of the operation."

"Great, and I've got Dale Morris set to take the fall on the other side. Gonna get his boyfriend in on it too," Tim grinned.

"How's that?"

"Dale asked me this morning if Joe could get in on some of the overtime, since he can't work for the next week. I told him I needed to check the kid out and I'd get back to him."

"You think he might be part of the investigation we were warned about?"

"Maybe, I doubt it though. He's just a kid, barely eighteen, but I'm gonna check him out before I say yes. Either way we'll have people to take the fall if the feds get too close."

"Yeah," Doug smiled. "The boss will like that, and neither one of them knows a thing so they won't be able to squeal. So how much do you think I should offer Simmons, don't want to look desperate and scare him off."

"Offer him an extra two thousand a week," Tim quickly decided.

Doug nodded, "Got it and we better get back to work."

Hearing steps coming his way, Frank quickly made his way to the restroom and waited a full ten minutes before returning to the office. He wished he had time to listen to the tape now, but he couldn't chance somebody walking in on him. It'd just have to wait for after work and if all went well Dale Morris would soon be out of his brother's life.

Doug scowled as Frank walked back into the office. "Where have you been?"

Frank's eyebrow shot up, "Been to the restroom, you writing a book?"

"No, but we got work to get done." Damn Powers, chill out, you're getting paranoid, he cautioned himself. As soon as Frank took his seat, Doug rolled his chair over to him. "I can offer you two grand a week," he whispered conspiratorially.

"Two grand? Not bad, I assume that can go up later?"

"Sure kid, you do a good job and we can probably arrange for a raise."

"Cool," Frank grinned.

A knock on the door woke Joe from a restless sleep. Glancing at the clock, he had a pretty good idea who it was. Climbing out of the bed, he walked to the door, "Who is it?"

"It's me," Dale replied.

"Me who?" Joe teased.

"Aww come on gorgeous, you know who it is," Dale playfully whined. He grinned as the door swung open, "I don't believe it."

Joe shot him a puzzled look, "What?"

"You're even gorgeous with bed head," Dale teased. His grin widened as the younger man blushed, he loved making Joe blush. "Can I come in?"

"I don't know," Joe pretended to sulk.

"Please, I'll be good," Dale pouted.

"I guess," Joe reluctantly gave in, stepping aside and letting the other man in.

"You feeling okay baby?" Dale asked, turning serious.

"Sore, but better," Joe replied. "Been sleeping most of the day."

"Good, it's probably what you need."

"I guess, but it's gonna be a boring week if that's all I do," Joe complained.

"Maybe the news I have will help." Wrapping his arm around Joe, he led him to the couch pulling him down beside him.

Joe snuggled against him, "News?"

"I talked to Tim, first of all you still have a job when you get done with your little vacation."

"That's a relief and second?"

"Second?" Dale pretended not to understand.

"You said first, that usually means there's a second."

"He's gonna see if he can get you some of the overtime I told you about, no promises though."

"That's great Dale," Joe grinned. "I sure hope he can, I could really use the extra money."

"Joe, can I talk to you about something?"

"Sure, what is it?"

"I know it's not much, but I do have an extra bedroom and..."

"No," Joe quickly interrupted. "I'm sorry Dale, it's just too soon to think about moving in with you."

"I didn't mean like that Joe, not that I wouldn't love to wake up every morning with you in my arms." Dale grinned as a blush instantly grew on the younger man's cheeks.

"What did you mean then?"

"I meant if things get too tight you're welcome to share my place."

Joe smiled, kissing him lightly, "Thank you."

"You're welcome gorgeous," Dale smiled. "I wish I could give you a real kiss," he whispered, his finger lightly tracing over Joe's lips.

"Me too," Joe sighed, "but I don't suppose it'd feel too good right now."

The moment work had ended, Frank had made his way uptown to where his father was staying. "I got it," he announced as soon as Fenton opened the door.

"That was quick," Fenton remarked, obviously impressed.

"Powers offered me a way to make some extra money, helping with phony paperwork for the dvds."

"That's a start Frank, but we need more to bring him and Dale in for questioning," Fenton pointed out.

Frank frowned, did his father think he didn't know that? "I have more Dad."

"Oh?"

"I asked him about the money and he said he had to talk to his partner. I followed him and I've got them on tape," he informed the older detective with a triumphant smile.

"Have you listened to it yet?"

"No, I didn't want to chance it at work," Frank replied. Pulling the digital recorder from his pocket, he quickly set it up and hit the play button. In shock, he listened as Doug spoke, not to Dale Morris, but to the dock foreman Tim Jones. "This doesn't change anything, Dale is still involved, you heard Tim say so."

Fenton shook his head, "I heard him Frank, Dale is an innocent victim, a patsy."

"He knows he's doing something wrong, I mean they can't be paying him for the work as part of his regular paycheck. He's got to know that's illegal," Frank insisted.

Fenton listened to his oldest, a worried expression on his face. It wasn't like Frank to behave this way. Certainly Dale might be wrong to break union rules, but the young man was only trying to pay his bills and Fenton couldn't fault him for that. Usually Frank would understand that; he would surely never advocate condemning somebody for it. "Frank what's going on son?"

"What do you mean?"

"I've never seen you so quick to judge, especially over something as petty as this."

"It's illegal," Frank insisted.

"Only if he doesn't declare it on his taxes," Fenton countered. "Otherwise, it only breaks union rules and we both know that sometimes those rules hurt the very people they're supposed to help."

"I guess," Frank mumbled.

"So, what's going on?"

"Nothing," Frank denied. What was the use of telling his father anyway, he wouldn't believe him. "So now what?"

Fenton wisely decided to drop the subject for now, but he made a mental note to return to it later. "We haul Powers and Jones in for questioning, use the recording to convince them to talk and find out who is behind this operation."

"What about Joe? If we close the case there's no reason for me to keep working there and then who is going to watch out for him?"

Fenton stared at his son, he couldn't believe he hadn't thought of that. "You're right son, I wasn't thinking. I'll talk to the office manager in the morning, explain the situation. I'm sure we can arrange for you to stay on until Joe regains his memory."

"Good, cause I'm not coming home until Joe does," Frank vowed.

Fenton nodded, he wasn't surprised by the declaration. "In the meantime, let's go talk to the agent in charge of the case and have our suspects brought in for questioning."

TBC

Hope y'all liked it, please feed the muse with reviews.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hardy Boys, not making any money, just cheap thrills.

Warnings: Angst, Slash

Rating: FRT

Discoveries

Chapter 6

With the recording, the FBI was able to convince a judge to issue, not only arrest warrants but search warrants too. Once Doug and Tim were confronted with the evidence which had been collected from their homes, the two men couldn't turn on their boss fast enough. Early the next morning, in a well coordinated raid, the FBI closed in on the warehouse being used by the piracy ring. Without firing a single shot, they arrested everybody in the building, including the leader of the group.

Dale walked into the break room the next morning, surprised to find his fellow workers sitting at the table, while a stranger stood next to the door. "What's going on?"

"You are?"

Dale turned to the stern man who stood guard at the door. Taking in the three piece suit, along with the short, almost military haircut, he quickly realized this man was some type of law enforcement officer. "Dale Morris," he replied. "What's going on?" he tried again.

"Have a seat Mr. Morris," the suit replied.

Seeing that he would get no answers from this man, Dale joined the others at the table. "You guys know what's going on?"

"No talking," the suit ordered.

Dale scowled, this wasn't right. They were American citizens damn it; they had rights. Just then the door opened and one of the others was escorted from the room. "What is going on?" he asked again.

"I'm not at liberty to discuss that with you Mr. Morris," the suit replied.

"We have rights," Dale insisted as he stared at the stone faced man.

"Your questions will be answered Mr. Morris, when the time is right."

"Give it up Dale, we all tried," Sam Butler advised. "He won't tell you anything."

With no other choice, Dale sat back and waited. As the hours passed, the number of men in the room decreased as one by one they were escorted out. He reminded himself that this wasn't some South American country, his government wouldn't simply make people disappear. The others didn't return though, making him wonder, one by one they left, but none of them returned, until there was only Dale left in the room.

"Mr. Morris, if you'll come with me."

Dale wanted to argue, but he wanted answers more. He pushed himself to his feet and followed the suit down the hall to the executive conference room. Stepping through the door, he was surprised to see only one man waiting for him. "You gonna tell me what's going on?" he asked of the middle aged man.

"As a matter of fact I am Mr. Morris. I'm Agent Williams, I'm with the FBI," he introduced himself. "If you'll have a seat we can get started."

"What's the FBI doing here?" Dale asked as he slid into a seat.

"Mr. Morris, what is your relationship with Tim Jones?"

"Um, he's my boss," Dale replied, his confusion growing.

"Has your boss ever asked you to do anything illegal?"

Dale looked down at the table, "Not really."

Agent Williams smacked the top of the table, "Mr. Morris either he did or he didn't."

Dale jumped in his seat, his confusion quickly turning to worry. "He just gave me some under the table overtime, that's all."

"That's all?" the agent asked suspiciously.

"Yes sir."

"Did he ever tell you what was in the crates you were handling?"

"No, never."

"Didn't you wonder why he was offering to pay you cash for this overtime?"

"He said it was so the company could save money by not having to pay me double time like the union requires."

"I see." For a moment nothing was said as Williams made a few notes. "How many dvds did he give you?" he suddenly asked. All of their information was that Morris was nothing more than a patsy, but they had to cover all avenues in order to cut off any defense that might be mounted by the suspects.

"Dvds? What are you talking about? He never gave me anything except pay for the work I did."

"Thank you Mr. Morris for confirming our information."

"What information? I don't even know what's going on," Dale snapped, his frustration and fear overwhelming him.

"Your boss, Mr. Jones, was part of a dvd piracy ring. He, along with a man in the local office for Global, funneled millions of dollars worth of pirated movies through these docks. That's what he had you loading and unloading during that overtime."

"Oh man," Dale gasped, his face growing pale. He could have gone to prison, could have lost Joe... "Joe," he whispered, "I almost got him involved too." He took a steadying breath as he glanced at the agent, "Am I going to prison?"

"No, you didn't do anything illegal," he assured him. "As far as we can tell the only two with knowledge of the piracy at Global were Tim Jones and Doug Powers. It turns out the man behind the entire operation was a customs agent."

"You mean it was a fed that was doing this?"

"Yes," Agent Williams reluctantly admitted.

"Wow," Dale sat back, trying to take it all in.

"You're free to go home now Mr. Morris."

"Home? What about work?"

"This branch of Global will be closed for the next two days while we take a full inventory. However, the higher ups at Global have agreed to pay the employees for the time off."

"Well that's okay then." Pushing himself to his feet, Dale quickly left the room. His mind still reeling with shock, he headed home, relieved that he was free. As he walked a smile spread over his face, two days off, with pay? Two days that he could spend with Joe, showing him how special he was. Increasing his pace, he hurried home; he had plans to make.

Joe jumped as a knock sounded; it was too early to be Dale, but who else would be at his door? His heart raced as he realized who else it could be. His attackers had taken his wallet, what if they had come looking for him? Stop it Joe, he ordered himself. You hadn't changed the address on your license yet dummy, they don't know where you live. Slowly climbing to his feet, he walked to the door. "Who is it?"

"It's Dale, open the door gorgeous."

"Dale?" Joe immediately opened the door. "Why are you here so early?"

"Nice," Dale smirked. Brushing a gentle kiss over Joe's lips, he walked past him into the apartment. "Got the next two days off, with pay."

Joe closed the door. "How'd you manage that?"

"Well that's the bad part," Dale replied. "You remember that overtime I mentioned?" Wrapping his arm around Joe's waist, he led them to the couch, pulling the younger man down beside him.

"Yeah?"

"Turns out Mr. Jones was part of a piracy operation."

"Pirates? You've been watching too many movies Dale."

"Not those kind of pirates," Dale smiled. "He was part of a group that was pirating dvds, that's why he had me working off the books."

"So Global is breaking the law?"

"Not Global, just Mr. Jones and another guy in the office. They were working with somebody else that worked in customs," Dale explained. "Anyway, while the FBI is doing an inventory, I guess looking for dvds, everybody gets time off with pay."

Joe had grown progressively pale as Dale spoke, his tired mind taking a moment to catch up. "Did you know?" he asked, feeling sick at the thought of the older boy being a criminal.

"No, I had no idea. Are you okay baby?" Dale softly asked as he drew Joe closer. "You're awfully pale."

"I'm fine," Joe assured him as relief flooded through him, leaving him feeling shaky. "So you're not going to jail?"

"No way, have to admit I was worried about that too for a little while. It was really weird Joe. I got to work and everybody was in the break room, there was a guy in a suit guarding the door. All morning they kept taking the guys out of the room, one at a time and none of them came back. I was getting pretty scared by the time they got to me," he admitted. "I kept telling myself that the government wasn't going to make me disappear, but I was starting to wonder. Then it was my turn. They took me to the conference room; they questioned me about the overtime and Mr. Jones. Once they were convinced I didn't know anything about it, the agent told me what was going on and told me I could go home."

"I'm glad you didn't know," Joe whispered. "I'd hate for my first boyfriend to be a criminal," he teased.

"First and last I hope," Dale returned, a thrill shooting through him at Joe's words. Bending his head, he nuzzled against Joe's neck, spending the next few minutes just enjoying the chance to hold the younger man in his arms. "I want to take you out to dinner baby," he whispered in Joe's ear.

Joe sighed, he couldn't believe how good it felt to be in Dale's arms. It was a moment he wished would never end. "Tonight?"

"If you're up to it," Dale confirmed, nibbling on his ear.

"That depends," Joe grinned.

"On what?"

"Am I on the menu?"

Dale smiled, "Oh no baby, you're not dinner...you're dessert."

Joe shivered, the desire he could hear in Dale's voice bringing a blush to his face and warm pleasure to his soul. "Dinner," he squeaked, blushing harder as he cleared his throat. "Dinner sounds good," he tried again.

"That has got to be one of the sexiest things I've ever seen," Dale moaned.

"Excuse me?"

"You blushing, I never knew a blush could be so sexy." Dale couldn't help chuckling as Joe's blush deepened. "I made a reservation for seven."

"Reservation?"

"Yeah, at Cafe Condesa."

"Are you sure you can afford that?"

Dale smiled, "You're sweet, but it's not that expensive and I want to celebrate the fact that I'm not going to jail."

"Sounds like a good reason to celebrate," Joe agreed. "It's only one-thirty so what are we going to do to pass the time?" he teased.

"Oh I'm sure we can think of something," Dale murmured against Joe's neck. As he nuzzled the younger man's neck, he slowly moved his hand under Joe's shirt. Feeling the slight trembling beneath his hand, he immediately drew back. "I'm sorry baby," he quickly apologized.

"Are you sure you want to wait for me?" Joe quietly asked. He felt awful that he couldn't give Dale what he wanted, but he was so new to this and he'd only ever had two girlfriends in his whole life.

"I'll wait for you until the end of time gorgeous," Dale assured him.

Joe grinned, a wicked twinkle lighting his eyes. "Well hopefully it won't be quite that long," he teased.

"Hopefully," Dale agreed with a smile. "Maybe later, after you're healed up, you'll go dancing with me?"

"I'd love to go dancing with you, but who leads?"

"Well I usually lead, but we could take turns."

"Usually? And just how many men have you taken dancing Romeo?"

"Jealous?"

"Should I be?"

"Nope, and I haven't actually taken very many dancing. I do like to dance though, so I go out to the clubs on the weekends and dance, at least I did."

"It's okay Dale, I was just teasing. What you did before you met me is your business. As far as that goes, we haven't said we're exclusive or anything."

"Well I'm saying it now, I don't want anybody else," he vowed.

"Good," Joe smiled as he snuggled into Dale's embrace, "neither do I."

ONE MONTH LATER:

Joe smiled as he got ready for work, his thoughts on tomorrow and where he'd be then. Without the promised overtime, he had found it more and more difficult to keep up with the bills. He never had been able to make up for that week he'd lost due to the mugging. Last night, with the first of the month looming, he had finally accepted Dale's invitation and agreed to move in with him. He had to admit, it did make sense. They already spent most of their time together, he might as well move into Dale's extra bedroom and save them both some money. He had a feeling, though, that he wouldn't be in that room for long. He was no longer as unsure of what he wanted and, though he'd never been with a man, he knew that he could trust Dale to take good care of him. The older boy would cut off his arm before he hurt him, that much Joe was sure of.

Dale grinned as he walked to work. He didn't know how he was going to get through the workday. At least it was Friday, he and Joe would be able to enjoy the weekend alone as they got used to living together. God it was going to be great, Dale's grin grew wider. The past month had been the best in his life. Spending every evening with Joe, sometimes just watching television and eating popcorn; other times going out dancing. As he'd known it would be, dancing with Joe was like floating on clouds, the younger man fitting into his arms as if he'd been made for them. From the first dance, they'd moved around the floor so seamlessly that those watching probably thought they'd practiced for weeks. The nights he had spent holding Joe in his arms as he slept had been the best. Dale didn't care that all they did was kiss and cuddle before falling asleep, with Joe it was more than enough. He was a man though, and yes he wanted more, but, unwilling to push his lover, he would wait until Joe was ready.

Frank Hardy blinked back the tears as he looked at the calendar on his wall. A month, and Joe still had no idea who he really was. Worse, he was continuing to date Dale. Man, Frank shook his head, Joe was going to be mortified when his memory came back. He knew what the doctor had said about forcing Joe to remember, but he couldn't just let his baby brother continue living this lie. He had to find a way to stop it before Joe did something he would regret for the rest of his life. With renewed determination to bring his brother home, Frank shook off his momentary melancholy as he left his apartment for work.

"What is with that guy?" Dale asked.

Joe looked in the direction Dale was turned, "What do you mean?"

"He's always looking at you, and he comes out here a lot more often than he needs to."

"Jealous Romeo?" Joe teased.

"Worried is more like it gorgeous," Dale grimly replied, turning away from watching the other man.

Joe sobered, "He's really bothering you, isn't he?"

"I just don't want anything to happen to you."

"He's not gonna hurt me," Joe assured his lover.

"I love you Joe, but you're still awfully naïve when it comes to life in the city." Dale turned to the blond, his expression serious, "Promise me that you won't ever be alone with him."

"I promise love, but I don't think you need to worry."

"I hope you're right."

"So, you have that spare room ready for me?" Joe asked, deciding a change in subject was needed.

"Yep, you all packed?" Dale grinned.

"Sure am," Joe smiled. Glancing around, to be sure they were alone, he leaned closer. "Maybe after we get everything moved, we can celebrate lover," he whispered.

"You're a cruel man Joe Harris," Dale groaned. "How am I supposed to get through the day now?" He smiled, enjoying the show as Joe shot him a wicked smile and walked away.

Hidden around the corner, Frank had maneuvered himself into position just in time for Joe's question about the spare room. Though he couldn't hear the words his brother whispered into Dale's ear, judging by the other man's reaction he was sure Joe was about to take a step he would surely regret later. He had to stop him, had to find a way to force Joe's real memories to return, Frank thought as he walked away. With his mind on his little brother, he didn't notice what was happening around him. A shouted warning came from his side at the same moment he heard the unmistakable sound of a snapping cable. Looking up, he froze for precious seconds as the large crate fell towards him. Before he could shake off his shock, a body slammed into him. As the darkness claimed him, the last thing he heard was a terrified voice calling his brother's name.

Joe saw the guy from the office walking across the dock, obviously lost in thought. He saw the crate swinging directly over the man, and then the cable snapped. With no consideration for his own safety, he called out a warning even as he rushed forward to shove the other man from beneath the falling crate.

Dale watched in horror as the man he loved rushed forward, shoving the other man out of harms way. Terrified, he screamed Joe's name as both men went down the crate hitting the dock at the same moment.

TBC

Hope y'all liked it, please feed the muse with reviews.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hardy Boys, not making any money, just cheap thrills.

Warnings: Angst, Slash

Rating: FRT

Discoveries

Chapter 7

Joe sat up, "Frank! Oh god please be okay Frank. Don't leave me," he begged as he turned the older boy over. His worry quickly turned to relief at the sight of dazed brown eyes looking back at him. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

"No, I'm fine, thanks," Frank replied.

"Thank God, I was so scared when I saw that crate falling towards you," Joe shakily admitted. "I thought I was going to lose you too," he quietly added.

Dale ran from the docks, his lover's voice as he plead with the other man not to leave him ringing in his ears. How could he have been such a fool? Believing Joe's lies so easily, he let loose a bitter chuckle, and he had thought the younger man was naive.

Frank stared at his brother, a smile growing as he realized what Joe's words meant. "You remember?"

"Remember? Oh no," Joe moaned as memories of the past month flooded his mind. "Dale," he whispered as he looked around the dock for the older boy. No, oh no, what have I done? "Did anybody see where Dale went?" he asked of the other men milling about the accident scene. He saw several men shaking their heads, a few of them looking disgusted. He didn't blame them for it; he knew what his words must have sounded like to Dale. His heart constricted as he imagined how hurt the older boy had to be feeling right now. Jumping to his feet he ran for the break room, unaware of Frank following him.

"Joe, what is it? What's wrong?" Frank asked, worried by the way his brother had ran off.

Joe turned at the sound of his brother's voice. Ignoring him, he directed his attention at the man behind Frank. "Mike, did you see where Dale went?"

"No and if I did I wouldn't tell you," Mike growled. "How could you do this to him Joe?"

"It's not what you think."

"Oh come on Joe, we all saw how you reacted to the possibility of office boy here being hurt. I can't believe you played Dale like that, he deserves better from you."

Joe shook his head, "I swear Mike I didn't...Frank is my brother..."

Mike glared at him, "Bullshit, you don't have a brother."

"Yes he does," Frank spoke up.

"Then why did you tell Dale and everybody else that you don't have any family?" he asked Joe, ignoring Frank.

"It's a long story Mike and I don't have time to explain it right now. I have to find Dale, I need to explain it to him. Please Mike if you know where he went, tell me," he begged. For a minute he was sure Mike wasn't going to reply, then the older man began to speak.

"I don't know where he went, but he headed that way," Mike pointed.

"Thanks Mike," Joe smiled. As he moved past the other man, Mike grabbed his arm.

"Make it right Joe, or you'll have me to deal with."

"I will Mike, if I can," Joe assured him.

"Joe wait," Frank called. "I'm coming with you."

"No, I have to do this alone."

"Joe he may not react well when you tell him the truth."

"He won't hurt me Frank."

"He might, especially when he finds out you're not really gay."

"That's why I know he won't hurt me Frank, because my feelings for him are real. I just hope he can forgive me for the other lies." Shaking off his brother's hand, Joe took off, intent on finding Dale.

Frank stared after Joe in stunned silence, his feelings are real? No, my little brother is not gay! He's just confused, that's all. Shaking off his surprise and shock, Frank left the room a few minutes later. He knew where Dale lived, he'd just follow Joe there and...what? What are you going to do Frank? Drag Joe out of there kicking and screaming? Yeah, he'll really be grateful for that, won't he? Realizing that he needed to give his brother the chance to talk to Dale, he decided to let Joe handle this, for now. He would, however, go to Dale's building and wait in the hallway, just in case his little brother needed help.

Joe took a deep breath and raised his hand to knock for the second time. "Dale, please let me in," he plead. He didn't blame Dale for being upset, but how was he supposed to explain things if the other man wouldn't let him in. "Idiot," he berated himself as he remembered the key his lover had given him. Not sure of his reception, he cautiously pushed open the door, "Dale?"

"Go away Joe, back to Frank," Dale spit the name as if it were a curse word.

Joe stood watching Dale, wanting nothing more than to join him on the couch but not daring to yet. "It's not what you think, please give me the chance to explain."

Dale looked up at him, his eyes shimmering suspiciously, "Why should I?"

Joe sighed, hating himself for what he'd done to the other man, unintentional though it had been. "I don't blame you for not wanting to talk to me..."

"That's big of you," Dale sneered.

Joe looked away, "I deserve that."

"There isn't anything to explain, obviously you love Frank, not me."

"You're half right, I do love Frank, but it's because he's my brother."

"Damn it Joe! If you're going to keep playing mind games with me at least come up with something believable. You're an orphan and an only child, remember?"

"I'm not lying about Frank, will you give me the chance to explain?"

Not lying about Frank? How could that be? Joe had told him he'd grown up in foster care and he'd never mentioned a brother. Had he just assumed Joe was an only child? Was that the explanation? Only one way to find out Dale, "Explain."

"I'm going to ask you one thing before I start," Joe began, "please don't say anything until I'm finished. If," he licked suddenly dry lips, "if you never want to see me after I tell you, I'll understand and never bother you again."

Dale flinched at the raw emotion in Joe's voice, he was beginning to think maybe the other man really did love him after all. "All right, so explain it to me." Dale sat in silence as Joe explained everything, from the moment his father had approached him and Frank, right up until this morning and the accident on the docks. When the younger man wound down, the apartment was engulfed by deafening silence as Dale tried to absorb and process all he'd been told. It hurt to think he'd been lied to, but he supposed he couldn't blame Joe for the lie about his identity. After all, when he'd begun the investigation they hadn't known each other and for all Joe knew, Dale was into the piracy up to his neck. The shock receded and Dale took in the pale, frightened appearance of his lover's face as he waited nervously for the silence to be broken. "Come here gorgeous," he invited, patting the sofa cushion.

Joe let go the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. On shaky legs, he stumbled to the couch, collapsing beside his lover. "I'm sorry lo...Dale," he quickly amended.

"Do you love me?"

"Yes," Joe quickly answered, "God yes!"

"Good, then we can work everything else out."

Joe leaned over, brushing a kiss across Dale's lips, "You're amazing, you know that?"

He pulled Joe close, not wanting to let him go, "I do have some questions."

"What do you need to know?" Joe quickly asked, ready to answer any question.

"How long have you known you liked men?"

Joe blushed, "I didn't until you kissed me."

"So when you accepted my invitation for pizza, you were just pretending to be gay?"

"I thought I was pretending," Joe quietly admitted.

"How can you do that?"

"I'm sorry."

"It's your job, I understand that baby, I just don't understand how you can manage it. I don't think I could ever pretend to be interested in somebody just to get a job done."

"It's the one part of the job I hate," Joe confessed. "It feels too much like playing mind games and I hate that, they hurt worse than any injury."

Dale could hear the pain in the younger man's voice, cutting through his heart. "That sounds like experience talking."

"It is," Joe whispered. "Can I tell you about it some other time?"

"Sure baby, you tell me whenever you're ready," Dale replied, sealing the deal with a kiss. "Is this the end of us?"

"I don't want it to be."

Dale sighed, "I don't either Joe, but let's be realistic. You've got a family and friends back in Bayport, a life that doesn't include me."

Joe sat up, looking deep into Dale's eyes, "It could."

"God Joe I wish it could, but how? You'll be going to college, I'm just a former foster kid working on the docks, how could I fit into your life?"

"Biff, a friend of mine, is a jock and going to college on a scholarship; Chet is a farm boy who will probably never be anything else; Phil is a certified genius from a wealthy family; Tony is the son of Italian immigrants; and you are the hardworking man I love." Joe ended his litany with a soul searing kiss.

"Wow," Dale whispered. "I love you too Joe, but I don't see how it can work. Shhh, let me finish. Obviously you hang out with lots of different types of people, but I still live in New York and you live in Bayport. Then there's the fact that none of those people knows about me, even if they could accept a gay friend, will they accept us?"

"I'll move to New York, and if they can't accept us then I don't need them as friends," Joe firmly replied.

"I love you Joe Hardy, man that's going to take some getting use to. I don't want you to give up your family and friends for me, I care too much about you to let you do that."

"I won't be giving them up love, they'll be giving me up and we can't either of us control that."

Dale sighed, "Joe you've never really lost anybody, you don't know what you're talking about giving up."

"I know more about it than you think," Joe's whispered response was nearly inaudible.

"Joe?" he questioned, not having heard what the blond had said.

"Look Dale you won't talk me out of this, love is too important and I'm not going to just walk away from you. So, what about you?"

"You're really serious about this, aren't you?"

"Very," Joe firmly answered.

"All right, but you need to be in Bayport with your family."

"Dale..."

"No baby, I won't let you walk away from your family for me. We can do a long distance relationship, it's not like I'm on the other side of the country you know."

"True," Joe conceded, "or you could move to Bayport," he suggested. Excitedly he continued, "Global has an office there, maybe you could get a transfer. We could see each other every night," he tempted his lover.

"I never thought of that, are you sure you're ready for it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Joe," Dale smiled, "you really are naive about some things aren't you? You're friends and family don't even know you like men, it's going to be hard enough to tell them that, are you ready to introduce me to them as your lover?"

"Oh, you might have a point there, but I'm not going to hide you like some kind of dirty little secret."

"How about a compromise?"

"What do you have in mind?"

"You go back to Bayport, tell your family and friends about the changes in your life; give them a chance to get used to it and see how they react. Then, we'll know what we'll be facing and we can talk about what to do next."

"I guess that would work, I can come and see you whenever I want, can't I?" Joe inwardly winced, hating that he sounded like a little kid begging for a treat.

"Every day if you want gorgeous," Dale smiled. Lowering his head, he claimed Joe's lips in a passionate kiss, breaking it only when the need for air became too great. "When do you have to leave?"

Joe smiled, "Not yet," he replied with a throaty whisper.

"They've probably been worried about you."

"That's why Frank was still working at Global, to keep an eye on me."

"That makes sense, but still they would have worried not knowing if you'd ever get your memory back."

"Trying to get rid of me?" Joe teased.

"Never baby," Dale assured him. "It's just that telling your family about the changes in your life will be hard enough, and your brother probably called home already; if you delay going home they might be upset with you before you tell them."

Joe sighed, "Can I use your phone?"

"Help yourself."

A moment later Joe was listening to the sound of a phone ringing on the other end of the line.

"Hardy residence," a soft voice finally answered.

"Mom, it's good to hear your voice," Joe smiled.

"Joe! Oh honey, when did you get your memory back? When are you coming home? Are you all right?" Laura showered her youngest with questions, holding the receiver so tightly against her ear it was almost painful.

"I'm fine Mom," Joe answered the most important question first. "I just got my memory back this morning, didn't Frank call and tell you?"

"I haven't heard from your brother today."

Joe frowned, "Hold on Mom, I need to check on something." Laying the phone down, he walked to the door and pulled it open. He had quickly realized where his brother was and why he hadn't called home yet. "Come on in Frank," he called to the figure hidden in the shadows.

"How did you know I was here?" Frank asked as he stepped into the light.

"Oh I don't know," Joe smirked, "maybe all those years of living with an over-protective big brother. Come on inside, I've got Mom on the phone." He didn't wait for an answer but simply turned and walked back into the apartment. "I'm back Mom, I was just getting Frank."

"Is everything okay Joe?" Laura asked, a note of worry in her voice.

"Everything's fine Mom, but I do have some things to take care of before I come home."

"Things? You're not in any trouble are you honey?"

"No Mom, but I had plans made and I can't just disappear on people it wouldn't be right. I need to pack too," he added, not mentioning that he was already packed for the move to Dale's.

"So when will you be home?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"You can't get here any sooner?"

"No Mom, I'm sorry but I need to do this. Please understand?"

Laura sighed, she could never resist her baby when he used that pleading tone. "Okay honey, but you better be here before lunch tomorrow."

"I will Mom," Joe assured her. "I love you Mom."

"I love you too sweetie, I've missed having you and your brother home. Can I talk to Frank for a minute?"

"Sure," Joe smiled. "She wants to talk to you," he informed his brother, passing the phone to him.

Frank broke off the staring contest he'd been engaged in with Dale, taking the offered phone. "Hi Mom...I was going to call you Mom, I just hadn't had time yet." Frank shot his little brother a thanks a lot look, glaring when the brat just laughed and turned away. "Yes Mom we'll both be home tomorrow, I promise," he paused, smiling softly. "I love you too Mom, see you soon, bye."

"Problems Frank?"

"That was a rotten trick brat," Frank growled. "Why did you have to tell her I knew about you getting your memory back?"

"I didn't mean to, I was just surprised that you hadn't already called her so it slipped out, sorry."

Frank couldn't keep up his angry act, "It's okay Joe, but you're only getting away with it because I'm so glad to have you back. Now what's this about you not going home until tomorrow?"

"Like I told Mom, I've got some things to take care of."

"You're going to spend the night with him aren't you?" Frank asked, shooting a glare Dale's way. His anger this time wasn't an act.

"Yes I am," Joe confirmed, wrapping his arm around Dale's waist. "I told you Frank, my feelings for Dale are real, I'm not going to pretend otherwise."

"Joe you haven't been yourself, literally, for the last month, how do you know that what you feel is real?"

"He has a point baby," Dale softly mumbled in his ear.

"Damn it! I know what I'm feeling," Joe snapped. "Just because I didn't know who I was doesn't change how I feel."

"Calm down Joe," Dale soothed, holding him tight.

"You stay out of this," Frank growled.

"Don't talk to him like that Frank," Joe warned his brother. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. "Look big brother, I know my feelings for Dale are a surprise to you, but denying it won't change anything."

"Joe can't you see that he's just taking advantage of your confusion..."

"Get out," Joe growled, his blue eyes flashing with anger.

"Joe don't, he's family..."

"No, the brother I know isn't a bigoted jerk."

"I wouldn't care a bit if you were gay Joe, but you're not," Frank insisted.

"You're right Frank, gay isn't the right word for what I am, bi-sexual is probably more accurate. The main thing I am though, is in love, I was hoping you could accept that; if you can't then it's your problem."

Dale swore his heart stopped as Joe began to speak; only resuming it's natural rhythm with the second part of his lover's statement. "I'm not going to hurt your brother Frank, I love him too much to ever do that."

Frank looked between them, he could see that his little brother wasn't going to listen to reason. He wanted to knock Dale out and take Joe out of there, but he had to admit that would only have Joe digging in his heels even more. Angry and feeling helpless, something he hated, he did the only thing he could, "I'll be at my apartment when you get ready to go home." He didn't wait for an answer, turning on his heel and heading for the door. Stopping with his hand on the knob, he knew it was playing dirty pool but he had to try, he turned back for a parting shot. "You know I never thought I'd say this, but I'm glad Iola isn't alive to see what you're doing." Unable to witness the look he knew would be on Joe's face, he turned and left before he gave into the love he held for his brother, and admitted he hadn't meant the words he'd so coldly thrown at him.

Joe felt his heart shatter with his brother's words. He was barely aware of Dale tightening his hold as he called to him, or of his feet moving while the older man led him to the couch. All he could hear were his brother's words; while a picture of a pixie faced girl, eyes flashing with disgust and anger hovered in front of him.

TBC

Hope y'all liked it, please feed the muse with reviews.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hardy Boys, not making any money, just cheap thrills.

Warnings: Angst, Slash

Rating: FRT

Discoveries

Chapter 8

"Joe, talk to me baby," Dale plead with the younger man. Damn his brother! Who was Iola and why was his lover so upset over the words his brother had thrown at him. He had been shocked by the change that came over Joe the moment his brother spoke of this Iola. After several minutes of silence from the blond, his shock had turned to concern and anger. Dale pushed the anger aside, he would deal with Frank later; first he needed to get Joe to snap out of this state he was in. He hated to do it, but he couldn't see any other way; reluctantly he slapped Joe's face.

"Hey!" Joe yelled, his hand going to his cheek. "Dale? You slapped me?"

"I'm sorry Joe, but you were just sitting there, staring into space, I didn't know how else to wake you up."

He didn't understand that, why...Frank! He remembered the ugly words his brother had said to him, the feeling of being sucker punched quickly returning. "How could he say that?"

"What does it mean Joe?"

"Iola was my first girlfriend, I loved her," Joe replied, his voice so quiet as to be nearly inaudible.

"What happened to her?"

"She died, because of me."

"You had a car wreck and you were driving?" Dale asked, unable to think of what else Joe could mean.

Joe shook his head, trembling as he always did whenever he thought back to that awful day. "We were at the mall, handing out pamphlets for this senator that she was volunteering for. The whole gang was there that day; she looked so beautiful." Joe choked back a sob, grateful for the strong arms holding him, "She deserved better than me."

"She must have been something really special then, cause they don't come much better than you," Dale whispered in his ear.

"She loved me and I loved her, but I didn't tell her nearly often enough. I don't even remember if I said it that day. I do remember hurting her, flirting with that other girl right in front of her and when she ran out of pamphlets I was even more of a jerk. I didn't offer to go get them, instead I teased her, held the keys above her, twirling them around. She was so mad, she was beautiful when she was mad," Joe smiled sadly. "Iola got the keys away from me and marched off to the car for more pamphlets. After she left Frank really laid into me for the way I had treated her. It didn't take much to convince me I'd been a jerk, I already knew it, just needed somebody to tell me I guess. What I don't know is why I acted that way, I still haven't figured that out. So, I decided the best way to start making amends was to go outside and help her carry the boxes of pamphlets in, I saw her at the car, and then..."

"And then?" Dale gently prompted, tightening his hold on the trembling man in his arms.

"The car exploded, I tried to get to her but Frank wouldn't let me. I fought him with everything I had, but he wouldn't let go. He was right of course, there was no chance of her surviving that, nobody could have."

"I don't understand, how do you think you caused her death?"

"The bomb was meant for us, if I had been a better boyfriend it would have been me at the car, not her."

"Did you know there was a bomb in the car?"

"No," Joe admitted. "Believe it or not I have come to terms with it mostly, just sometimes the old guilt resurfaces."

"Especially when your brother says stuff like what he did?"

"He's never said anything like that before, guess you were right," Joe sadly admitted.

"I'm sorry baby, I would rather be wrong."

"Not your fault," Joe quickly responded. "Do you think Iola would really hate me for loving you?"

"Was Iola a petty, vindictive sort of girl?"

"No, she was an angel. She had a really bad temper, but she got over it as fast as she got mad and she didn't hold grudges. She said life was too short to spend her energy hating people who had hurt her," chokes back a bitter laugh. "She just didn't know how right she was; her life was way too short."

Silently Dale promised to give Frank Hardy the beating he deserved. Forcing the anger back down where it belonged, he brushed a kiss into Joe's hair. "Doesn't sound like the type of girl to hate you for finding love again."

"No, she isn't, wasn't."

"You said your first girlfriend, how many girlfriends have you had?" Dale asked.

"Only one other serious one, Vanessa, she helped me a lot. If it hadn't been for her I don't know if I'd still be here," Joe confessed.

Dale sucked in a breath, "What do you mean?"

"After Iola I took a lot of risks, my friends and family thought I had a death wish; they were right. I didn't want to go on, it hurt so much and I couldn't see any other way to make it stop. Then I met Vanessa and she showed me that life was worth living, that there was still love and beauty in the world."

"I'm glad you found her," Dale smiled. "Is she back in Bayport?"

"No, she moved to Japan with her mother." Sitting up a bit, he looked Dale in the eye, unable to resist teasing a bit, "Worried about the competition?"

"Maybe a little," Dale admitted.

"Well you don't have to be," Joe quickly assured him. "We decided not to try a long distance relationship, it wouldn't be fair to either one of us. The truth is, it never would have lasted, even if she'd stayed in Bayport."

"Why do you say that?"

"She wasn't a rebound relationship exactly, but it was kind of like that. I needed her, more than I could ever explain, at that point in my life, but it couldn't last. The more I healed, the less I would need her, at least I wouldn't need her in the same way. We were already starting to move apart some, it would've just gotten worse as time went on."

"And I'm your first boyfriend?"

"First and last I hope," Joe smiled. Closing the distance between them, he pressed his lips to Dale's in a passionate kiss. "Make love to me Dale," he whispered, his voice thick with desire.

Oh god, he wanted to take Joe up on the request. More than anything he wanted to make the younger man his in every way, but he couldn't do it. "Not today," he reluctantly said.

"I'm sorry, I thought...I'll just go," Joe mumbled as he climbed to his feet.

Dale grabbed his wrist, pulling him back down and holding him close. "I want to make love to you gorgeous, but I want our first time to be special and for the right reasons."

"The right reasons?"

"Because we love each other and we're both ready."

"I thought we do love each other and I know I'm ready," Joe insisted.

Dale kissed his forehead, "No you're not baby. What you are is scared that if we don't make love before you go home, you'll lose me. That isn't going to happen Joe and if it does then we don't have much anyway."

Joe stared at him, if Frank had heard him he'd know that Dale wasn't a bad guy. In fact, he was better than most, "I love you."

"I love you too gorgeous," Dale smiled. "So, why don't we spend the day playing tourist and maybe you can spend the night here," he suggested.

"Kissing and cuddling?"

"Absolutely," Dale agreed.

Frank spent the rest of the day packing and pacing his apartment. He still couldn't believe he had been so cruel to his little brother. For the past month all he had wanted was to have his brother back, and what did he do the moment he got him back? He said, probably the most cruel thing he could, and why? Because Joe thought he was in love with a man. Frank shook his head, he didn't understand why his brother believed himself to be in love with Dale. Convinced that Joe was delusional, he decided that if Joe didn't tell their parents then he would. They had to know that the younger boy was, at least partially, still identifying with his undercover persona. He supposed it might be necessary to get Joe some counseling if he was to fully recover. "Don't you worry little brother, Mom and Dad will do whatever they have to if it means getting you over this delusion you have."

Joe wasn't really surprised to see Frank at his apartment the next morning. He almost wished he had let Dale come with him, but his lover couldn't afford to miss another day of work. Suck it up Joe, you can deal with him. "Frank," he coldly greeted the older boy.

Frank swallowed, well guess I know where I stand, he thought to himself. "I thought you might need some help packing and a ride home."

"I'm already packed, but I guess I could use a ride," Joe reluctantly admitted.

"When did you have time to pack?" Frank was sure he would have seen his brother if he had come back anytime last night and he certainly would have seen him this morning.

"Before I got my memory back I was getting ready to move in with Dale," Joe replied.

"Oh, good thing you got your memory back then."

"Don't go there Frank," Joe warned his brother. "You already got your stuff in the van?"

"Yeah."

Joe unlocked his door for the last time, "Let's load up then." Without another word, he walked into the small apartment and started grabbing boxes. A short time later everything was loaded in the van and Joe had turned his key into the building manager.

"This is for the best Joe, you'll see that soon for yourself," Frank said as he pulled into traffic.

"I'm not going to discuss this with you Frank."

"Joe..."

"No!" Joe snapped. "The only reason I'm going back to Bayport is because Dale doesn't want me to give up my family and friends for him. He's why all of you will get the chance to accept the changes in my life but if you can't then it'll be you guys giving me up."

Frank stared at him in disbelief, "You can't mean that."

"Why not? Because it doesn't fit your idea of who I am?"

"You're not gay or bi Joe, you're just confused."

Joe turned back towards the window, crossing his arms over his chest and staring out at the scenery, though he wasn't seeing it. As the miles passed, bringing them closer to home, Joe's nervousness grew. What if his parents reacted the same way as Frank? Could he handle it if they rejected him? Guess I'll find out soon enough, he thought as the Bayport city limits sign came into view. Sooner than he was ready for it, they were pulling into the driveway and his mother was at his door, pulling it open.

"Oh Joe, honey we've missed you so much," Laura gushed. Taking her tall son's arm, she pulled him from the van and into her arms. "Are you okay?"

Eagerly Joe returned the hug, praying it wouldn't be the last one he received from his mother. "I'm fine Mom." He pulled away, glancing around for his father, "Where's Dad?"

"He'll be here soon, I sent him to the store for some mint chocolate chip ice cream," Laura smiled.

Joe grinned, "Thanks Mom, you didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to," Laura immediately hushed him.

Joe nodded, touched by the small welcome home gesture. "So, what's for lunch?"

Laura laughed, it was good to have her baby home. "Corned beef and cabbage, I didn't think you'd had any while you were gone."

"I haven't, thanks Mom."

Fenton walked into the house a short time later, the sounds of laughter drifting to him from the kitchen. Smiling broadly, he headed down the hallway. For a moment he contented himself with standing in the doorway, savoring the sight of his family back together as they should be. "Joe," he called as he stepped into the room.

Joe turned, "Dad," he breathed, stepping forward into his father's embrace. "I'm sorry it took so long for your Joe to come home."

Fenton blinked back tears, "Oh Joe." Tightening his hold, he sent up a silent prayer of thanks for the safe return of his youngest. "Save me any lunch?" he asked.

Joe chuckled, "Yeah, you got here just in time."

Lunch was a lively affair, as the family caught up with each other. However, it didn't escape the notice of Fenton and Laura that there seemed to be some tension between the boys. Though nothing was said during lunch, they each hoped that the boys would tell them what was wrong soon.

Standing up, Joe cleared his throat, getting their attention. "Mom, Dad, um...there's something I need to tell you," Joe nervously began, praying for they could accept him.

"Whatever it is Joe, you can tell us," Fenton assured him. He wondered if maybe Joe had gotten into some kind of trouble while he had amnesia. He immediately dismissed that thought, Frank would have called them if that were the case.

"While I was gone, when I thought I was Joe Harris, I discovered something about myself."

"Joe you're not..."

"Shut up Frank," Joe cut him off. Taking a deep breath, he went on before his brother could interrupt him again. "Mom, Dad, I'm bi-sexual," he announced. The silence in the room was deafening and for a moment he feared they too would refuse to accept it, or worse would reject him for it. He nearly broke down when their arms wrapped around him; gratefully he returned the embrace. "You don't hate me?"

"Oh Joe," Laura soothed. "You're our little boy, we could never hate you."

"There's more Mom...I'm in love, with a man."

"Dale Morris?" Fenton asked, putting two and two together.

"It started out as me pretending to be gay cause he is, but then he kissed me and everything changed."

"What's he like? How does he treat you?" Laura wanted to know.

Fenton smiled, leave it to Laura to cut to the heart of the matter.

"He treats me great, I think you'd like him. He's a really nice guy. All this time that I thought I was Joe Harris he's been looking out for me, he's still doing it."

"How's that son?" Fenton asked.

"By insisting that I come home instead of staying in New York. He said family is too important and he didn't want me to lose you guys because of him." As he spoke he shot a glance at Frank, he sighed when he still saw the same look of disapproval on his brother's face. Stepping away from his parents, he sat back down at the table. "I was afraid that after I told him the truth he would hate me, but he doesn't. All he wanted to know is if I love him, he says as long as we love each other everything else can be worked out."

Laura smiled softly, "I remember another young man saying something very similar about twenty-five years ago."

"Dad?"

"My father was very hard to please, I was sure he would hate Fenton because he wasn't part of the country club set. Fenton insisted that we could handle anything life threw our way, including my father, as long as we had love. He was so very right too," she added, taking Fenton's hand in her's.

"Are the two of you going to continue seeing each other?" Fenton asked.

"We plan to, and if things go well he may see if Global will transfer him to Bayport."

"When you're ready, we'd like to meet..."

"I can't believe you!" Frank yelled. "How can you just go along with this...he's confused can't you see that? He can't be in love with a man," he insisted.

"Why not?" Laura asked.

"Oh come on Mom, he's been girl crazy since he found out they were good for more than teasing."

"Why does that mean he couldn't have found love with this man?"

"Because it's not Joe, it's just confusion from all that time thinking he was somebody else." Frank looked at his parents, shaking his head as he realized that they weren't going to listen to him. "Fine, you indulge his delusion if you want to but count me out." Turning away, he stalked out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

Joe sagged, even though it hadn't come as a surprise, his brother's reaction still hurt. "I'm sorry," he apologized to his parents.

"You have nothing to be sorry about Joe, your brother will come around," Fenton assured him.

"I hope so," Joe sighed. "Guess I better go unload the van, if he didn't take it."

"Want some help?" Fenton offered.

"That's okay Dad, I got it." Truthfully he could use the time alone, needing it to brace himself for the possible reactions of his friends when they found out. Stepping outside, he was surprised to see the van still parked where they'd left it. Looking around, he didn't see Frank anywhere, "Probably went to the park," he mumbled to himself. He knew his brother often went for walks in the park when he needed to cool off. Well there was nothing he could do about Frank at the moment, so he might as well do what he could.

Though he moved slower than usual, subconsciously delaying the inevitable, he soon had the van unpacked. "Guess there's no sense putting it off," he mumbled. "Mom, Dad, I'm gonna go to Mr. Pizza, see if any of the gang is around," he called as he headed out the door one more time. In minutes he was on his way to the mall, praying the whole time that his friends would be more accepting than his own brother had been.

TBC

Hope y'all liked this chapter, please feed the muse with reviews.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hardy Boys, not making any money, just cheap thrills.

Warnings: Angst, Slash, Violence

Rating: FRT

Discoveries

Chapter 9

Joe stared at the mall, nervously licking his lips as he contemplated what he was about to do. A small laugh sounded in the enclosed space; "You're pathetic Hardy," he berated himself. "You've faced down Assassins and here you are too afraid of your friends to tell them about the changes in your life." He took a deep breath. Forcing himself to release the death grip he had on the steering wheel, he slowly opened the door and headed inside.

"Hey Joe, when did you get home?" Tony was the first to greet him when he stepped inside Mr. Pizza.

"Just a little while ago, thought I'd come down and see if any of the gang was here."

"They're all here." Glancing around, Tony was surprised not to see Frank, "Where's Frank?"

Joe frowned, "He went for a walk."

"Something wrong Joe?" Tony couldn't help feeling concerned. Frank had called them after Joe was mugged and told them about his memory loss. Obviously the younger Hardy had regained his memory, but why wasn't Frank with him? It didn't make any sense, the older boy was so protective of the younger that at times he was guilty of smothering Joe.

Joe sighed, "You have time for a break?"

"As a matter of fact I was just about to clock out," Tony replied. "Why don't you go say hi to everybody, I'll be over in a few minutes."

"Okay," Joe quietly agreed. Bracing himself, he walked over to their usual table.

Biff looked up, a grin spreading over his face. "Joe! When did you get back?"

His call alerted the others of Joe's presence, almost as one they all turned to him, greeting him enthusiastically. Joe returned the greetings, quickly answering their questions. Conversation flew around the table and soon Joe was feeling more relaxed, in spite of his fears. A few minutes after he sat down, Tony joined them as well.

"So Joe, you gonna answer my question now?"

Joe swallowed, licking suddenly dry lips, "It's not really something wrong, but you may think it is. Frank thinks it is, that I'm just confused, but I'm not," he insisted. "I know what I want, Frank just can't accept it."

Chet reached over and gave Joe's shoulder a squeeze, "Joe, buddy, what are you talking about?"

Joe's laugh sounded hollow, "Not making any sense am I?"

"Well there's nothing new about that," Callie teased.

Joe responded by sticking his tongue out at the girl, "Thanks Callie." He heaved a sigh, looking down at the table, "I don't know where to start."

The others exchanged worried glances, none of them had any idea what this could be about, but Joe's obvious discomfort had them all concerned. "Why don't you just start at the beginning," Phil logically suggested.

Joe nodded, it made sense, something he would expect from Frank's best friend. Without looking up, he launched into his story, beginning with his father approaching them and ending with the earlier discussion at his house. The blood rushing through his ears was all he could hear as he waited for somebody to break the uncomfortable silence.

Biff's large hand slammed down on the table top, startling them all. "I can't believe you could do something so wrong!" he yelled at Joe.

"Now you wait just a minute Biff, that's not fair," Chet protested in his friend's defense.

"Not fair? What's not fair about it Chet?"

"It's okay Chet," Joe quickly interrupted the two boys before their argument could escalate into a fight. "Biff's entitled to his opinion," he choked out, though it hurt to know that he was going to lose at least one friend because of who he loved. "Anybody else feel the same way?" he asked, finally looking at his friends.

Tony looked away, he had never really thought about homosexuality before, or bi-sexuality for that matter and he didn't know what to say. He knew the church taught it was a sin, a mortal sin, then there was his family. While his parents didn't agree with everything the church taught and he'd never heard them say anything about this topic, he had a feeling they wouldn't approve. His father wouldn't that was for sure. "I don't know how I feel Joe, you kind of dropped a bombshell on us," he finally said when the silence at the table stretched on.

"Well I know how I feel and I'm not going to stay here," Biff snapped. Jumping to his feet, he nearly ran out of the restaurant in his hurry to get away from Joe.

"It'll be okay Joe, he'll come around," Callie soothed the younger boy. Reaching across the table, she gave his hand a supportive squeeze. "Both of them will, they just have to come to terms with it."

Joe stared at Callie's small hand wrapped around his own. If he had been asked, yesterday, which of his friends would be quickest to condemn him, Callie's name would have topped the list. Even now, seeing her hand on his and hearing her words of comfort, he could hardly believe it was Callie. "You don't hate me?" he asked in a small voice.

"Hate you?" Callie asked. "Oh Joe, how could you think...never mind, that was a dumb question. Of course you would worry about that, especially after Frank's reaction." Taking a deep breath, Callie forced herself to calm down. "No I don't hate you Joe," she confirmed. "I admit I'm surprised, but you're my friend and I just want you to be happy. If this Dale makes you happy then I'm fine with it."

"Do you think Iola would be mad?"

Callie opened her mouth to respond, but she never got the chance.

"No!" Chet snapped. "I'm sorry Joe," seeing his friend flinch, he quickly apologized. "Iola loved you, she would want you to be happy, no matter who it was with. Is there a reason you wondered about that?"

"It was something Frank said."

"I don't know exactly what Frank said, but Iola was my sister and I'm telling you she would never hate you for falling in love."

"Thank you Chet," Joe whispered. After his talk with Dale he had been mostly convinced, but hearing it from her brother won over the small part of him that had still doubted. "What about you?"

Chet shrugged, "It doesn't bother me any. It's perfectly natural, but he better treat you right or he'll have me to answer to."

Joe chuckled, "Thanks Chet, you don't know what that means to me."

"How can you say it's natural Chet?" Tony asked.

"I grew up on a farm Tony," Chet grinned. "You'd be surprised at how often I've seen it with animals. I always think it's funny when people argue that it's not natural for men to be attracted to men, then they hold up the animals as proof of that. If they knew how often males of different species have sex with other males," he trailed off with a chuckle.

"You're not making that up are you?"

"No Tony, it really happens. Does that change anything for you?"

Tony shrugged, "It's more for me to think about, but I'm still not sure."

"That's okay Tony, at least you're not rejecting me outright," Joe quickly absolving his friend.

"Well I don't care at all," Phil piped up. "The only thing I can say Joe is be careful and be sure it's what you want before you do something you can't take back."

Joe nodded, "I am sure Phil, but I will be careful." Joe smiled softly, touched by the older boy's concern. "Thank you," he quietly added, though he was looking at Phil, his words were meant for them all.

"For what?" Phil asked, confused by the gratitude.

"Not just you," he replied, glancing around the table. "Thanks for not turning your backs on me, for not hating me," he explained, his voice hitching.

Each of them felt their hearts breaking a bit at the obvious pain in Joe's voice. Pain brought on by both Biff and Frank's rejections. Surprising them all, it was again Callie who took the lead. Standing up, she moved around the table, sitting next to Joe and drawing him into her arms. "We could never hate you Joe and they don't either," she assured him.

"Don't they?" Joe scoffed, leaning into her embrace, surprised and grateful for her understanding.

"They don't Joe, I'm sure of it. They're just confused and maybe a little scared."

Joe looked at her, "Scared? Why would they be scared?"

"It's a big change Joe, that can be scary. They're probably afraid that you'll be a different person. Once they see that the only thing different about you is who you love, that nothing else about you has changed, they'll let go of their anger."

"I hope you're right Callie," Joe whispered. "I can handle losing Biff's friendship, but I don't know what I'll do if Frank keeps hating me."

"He doesn't hate you Joe, I promise you he doesn't," Callie quickly assured him again.

"So what is this guy like?" Chet asked. He might not be Joe's big brother, but he had been a big brother and those instincts were telling him Joe needed to think about something other than Frank.

"Dale? He's great," Joe smiled, lighting his face up. "He loves me, even knowing that I lied to him in the beginning he still loves me."

Chet smiled, he was happy for his friend, "When do we get to meet him?"

Joe looked at him, clearly surprised, "You want to meet him?"

"Of course, have to make sure he's good enough for you don't I?"

"I don't know, maybe soon. I wanted to stay with him in the city but he insisted I come home. He doesn't want me losing my friends and family because of him."

"That's not going to happen Joe," Phil spoke up.

"I'm gonna call him when I get home, maybe once he knows how things went today he'll look into getting a transfer to Bayport."

"What if he doesn't want to do that, or can't?" Tony asked. "Are you going to move to the city to be with him?"

"I don't know yet Tony, I might eventually," Joe honestly replied. "I guess we'll just take things a day at a time."

"That's probably the best way," Callie agreed. A movement at the door caught her eye, tuning towards it, she saw Frank standing there, looking angry. "Excuse me boys, I have something to take care of," Callie mumbled as she rose to her feet.

Joe turned around, the color draining from his face when he saw the look on his brother's face. "No," he whispered. He knew in that instant that Callie was wrong. Frank hated him for loving Dale. His only hope was that in time his brother would be able to accept him for who he was. If he couldn't, then his lover would be proven right and he would lose his family. Though he would still have the love of his parents, with the tension between him and Frank, he would never again have the same family that he'd grown up with.

Seeing the devastated look on Joe's face, Chet let loose a low growl. "I'll be back soon, I need to have a word with Frank." Standing up, the stout boy headed for the door, hurrying to catch up with the young couple who were nearly to the exit.

Callie hadn't said a word to Frank when she joined him at the door; she had simply grabbed his arm and dragged him towards the mall exit. Twice on the way to the door, Frank had tried to speak, but she had quickly hushed him with a heated glare. A part of her wanted to lay into him right there in Mr. Pizza, but she didn't think Joe would appreciate that, so she had led him outside. Reaching the exit, she shoved the door open, her small hand still gripping Frank's arm in an almost bruising grip. Letting him go, she turned to tell him just what she thought of him. She never got the chance; a large form barreled through the door, knocking Frank to the ground with one well placed punch to the jaw.

"How dare you use Iola to hurt Joe," Chet yelled.

Frank glared up at Chet, surprise and anger warring for dominance on his handsome face. "Don't tell me you're okay with him betraying her memory like this," he snapped.

"Betraying?" Chet gasped. "God Frank, you're a real piece of work aren't you? I always thought you were the best big brother in the world, I even modeled myself after you when Iola was alive. I wanted to be as good of a brother to her as you were to Joe, thank God I was better."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Frank asked, climbing to his feet.

"I'm talking about you rejecting Joe because you don't approve of who he's in love with. I'm talking about you refusing to accept him for who he is. I may not always have been the best brother but at least I never rejected Iola or tried to turn her into the person I thought she should be."

"It's easy for you to sit in judgment isn't it?" Frank snarled. "Iola never told you she was in love with a girl and since she's dead you'll never have to see if you could accept it."

"You turn into a real bastard when things don't go your way, don't you?" Chet growled. He took a deep breath, he wasn't ready to let go of his anger yet, but he wouldn't let it rule him. "You're right Iola never fell in love with a girl, instead she fell in love with a Hardy. I knew that just being with Joe would put her in danger and a part of me wanted to insist that she find somebody safer to love. Do you know why I didn't?"

"Because you knew it wouldn't work?"

"No! Because I could see how happy your brother made her and I wasn't willing to make her miserable just so I would feel better."

"This isn't about me."

Chet snorted derisively, "Isn't it? You can't accept that Joe is in love with a man so you do your best to hurt him, to punish him."

"I'm not trying to punish him, I'm trying to get him to come to his senses," Frank insisted.

"Come to his senses, or come to your senses?"

Frank blinked, "Huh?"

"You don't want him to come to his senses, you want him to feel the way you say he should," Chet explained.

"Chet's right Frank, can't you see that?" Callie asked.

Frank looked between them, "Don't you see that there's something wrong with this? Joe isn't gay or bi, he's just confused," he insisted.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why is it wrong? Why do you say he's confused?" Callie clarified.

"He never even looked at a guy that way before this case, he was just pretending to be gay because Dale is gay. It was a way to get close to him, but then he got hurt and lost his memory, so he thought he really was gay." Frank explained, conveniently leaving out the fact that Joe had realized he wanted to be with Dale before he was mugged. "Now he has his memory back but he also remembers the time he spent with that guy and he's confused."

"Frank, do you really think that Joe's feelings for Dale are a product of confusion and memory problems?" Chet asked.

"Of course they are, he couldn't really love a man."

"You wouldn't say that if you'd seen his face light up when he spoke about Dale," Chet calmly countered.

"Chet's right," Callie agreed. Stepping closer, she wrapped her arms around the dark eyed boy, drawing him closer. "Frank I love you, but the man I love isn't a bigot and he doesn't try to control the people he loves."

Frank was horrified that she thought that of him, "You think I'm a bigot?"

"You're acting like one."

"Oh God, what have I done?" he asked as realization sank in. He buried his face in her hair, though whether he sought comfort or to hide his shame, he wasn't sure.

"Nothing that can't be fixed," Callie assured him.

"How is he going to forgive me?"

Callie smiled indulgently, boys could be so foolish sometimes. "He'll forgive you because he loves you and it's killing him to think that you hate him."

"He thinks I hate him?"

"What else is he supposed to think?" Chet asked.

Pulling away from Callie, he headed towards the door, "I have to talk to him." Stepping back into the coolness of the mall, he didn't see the relieved look that passed between Callie and Chet. It took every ounce of control he possessed to keep from running back through the mall to Mr. Pizza. After what seemed entirely too long, he stood in the doorway of the pizza place, staring in horror at the sight of his little brother being comforted by Phil and Tony. He felt a chill go through him; he had done that to Joe, he had hurt his brother, something he had promised to never do.

Sensing a presence, Tony looked up into the anguished eyes of his friend. Standing up, he stepped over to Frank, grabbing his arm as he headed to the table. "If you're going to be hateful leave now."

"I'm not, I just want to make things right."

"Don't hurt him again," Tony warned as he released his arm. Stepping back, he let Frank pass, but he stayed close in case he was needed. He might not be sure how he felt about the changes in Joe, but the younger boy was still his friend and he wasn't ready to turn his back on him.

Frank nodded, he couldn't even be angry with Tony. How could he when the Italian youth was only trying to protect Joe. Stepping up to the table, he nervously cleared his throat. "May I talk to you Joe?"

Joe nodded, scooting over to make room for his brother. He heaved a disappointed sigh when Frank slid into the seat opposite him, taking Phil's place as the other boy got up and moved away. Afraid of what his brother would say, he kept his eyes on the table.

Frank didn't miss the look Phil shot him, understanding that if he hurt Joe, he wouldn't be dealing with Tony only. "Please look at me Joe," he quietly asked as he took his seat. He winced at the raw pain he saw reflected in his baby brother's eyes, pain he had put there. "I'm so sorry Joe, please say you can forgive me."

"You," Joe swallowed convulsively, "don't hate me?"

"No!" Joe flinched and he instantly regretted his tone. "I never hated you Joe," he continued, softening his tone. "I was scared to admit that maybe your feelings for Dale are real and I was worried about you."

"I told you Dale would never hurt me," Joe repeated for what seemed like the tenth time.

"I know, but I don't know him as well as you do, and I wasn't just afraid of Dale hurting you."

"What then?"

"I was afraid that you would realize later that you didn't really like men but it would be too late."

"Too late? What do you mean too late?"

"That you would go all the way with him and then have to live with the regret of that mistake for the rest of your life. I didn't want you to be hurt."

"So you hurt me instead?" Joe winced at the bitter tone of his question, but his brother's rejection had been more painful than he could have imagined.

"I shouldn't have done that Joe, I regretted the words as soon as I said them. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

"Give Dale a chance, accept the changes in me," Joe quickly replied.

"I'll accept him, I promise," Frank vowed.

"Don't," Joe waved off the promise.

Frank tilted his head, confused, "I thought that was what you wanted."

"I do, but I don't want you to just accept him because you're trying to make up for your earlier behavior. I want you to accept, if you can, after you get to know him and realize for yourself that he's a good man."

Frank nodded, now he understood, "I can do that."

Joe smiled, "Thank you. Chet or Callie?" he asked, nodding to the bruise on Frank's jaw.

"Chet, but I think if he hadn't Callie would have," he sheepishly replied.

"I'll have to tell them thanks."

Frank glanced up, seeing their friends gathered nearby, ready to come to Joe's defense if needed, brought a smile to his face. "Ready to invite them back over?"

"Yeah," Joe smiled. As their friends joined them, he began to relax among the good-natured, familiar banter. Joining in the conversation, he ignored the feeling of trepidation that gripped his heart whenever he thought of the one friend that was missing.

Across town, Biff sat in his room, his anger growing as he turned the pages of the photo album. "How could he do this to me?" he mumbled, his anger slowly becoming an uncontrollable rage.

TBC

Hope y'all liked it. Sorry it took so long to update, real life got in the way. Please feed the muse with reviews.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hardy Boys, not making any money, just cheap thrills.

Warnings: Angst, Slash

Rating: FRT

Discoveries

Chapter 10

Laura felt nearly giddy with relief as she listened to her sons relaxed conversation as they came in the front door. She heard them separate at the bottom of the stairs, one going up and one moving into the kitchen. Many years ago, when the boys were very young, she and Fenton had agreed not to interfere in their arguments. They both felt that it was important for the two brothers to settle their differences without any parental controls, as long as the fight didn't become serious or continue too long. Even then, they had never forced the boys to make up, feeling that to do so would defeat the purpose of reconciliation. So, rather than force, they had simply spoken to the boys with respect and encouraged them to resolve the argument before it became too serious. Laying aside her knitting, she stood and walked to the kitchen. "I take it you boys have resolved your differences?"

Frank turned to face his mother, a sheepish smile on his face, "Yeah we..."

Laura gasped, the bruise on the jaw of her eldest telling a story of its own. "Oh Frank," she sadly whispered. "I wish you boys could have resolved things without resorting to violence," she went on in a normal voice. While she spoke, she opened the freezer, quickly removing the ice pack and wrapping it in a towel. "Here, put this on your jaw," she ordered as she handed him the cold compress.

Frank gratefully accepted the ice pack, placing it on his aching jaw with a relieved sigh. "It wasn't Joe that hit me," he gently corrected her.

Laura glanced up at him, surprise written on her face, "It wasn't?"

"No, it was Chet and before you say anything, I had it coming."

"He hit you because of your argument with Joe?"

"Sort of," he replied.

"That isn't right Frank, you are allowed to disagree with your brother and this was quite a bombshell he dropped on us. Chet had no business hitting you," she firmly declared.

Frank sighed, "Yes he did Mom, trust me on that."

Laura arched an eyebrow at that assertion, "Why do you say that?"

"I'd rather not say, please."

Seeing a look of lingering shame in Frank's brown eyes, she reluctantly gave in. "All right honey, but if he hits you again I want to know why."

"He won't," Frank assured her. "I'm glad he did anyway."

"You are?"

"Yeah, knocked some sense into my hard head."

Laura's eyes twinkled merrily, "I thought Joe was the one with a hard head."

"Oh he is, but every once in a while I have to be foolishly stubborn just so he won't feel alone."

Joe flopped down on his bed, opening his cell phone he dialed a familiar number. "Miss me love?"

"Joe," Dale smiled, the sound of his lover's voice instantly lifting his spirits. "You know I did," he replied. "Is everything okay?"

Joe smiled, "Better than I hoped for."

"Tell me," Dale softly requested.

Joe quickly filled Dale in on the reactions of his family and friends. "I just hope Biff comes around soon."

"I know baby, I hope he does too, for your sake."

"At least everybody else is taking it well."

Dale smiled, "I got to admit it's surprising, but I'm glad."

"Maybe you can talk to Global about transferring sooner than we'd hoped."

"Monday too soon for you?" Dale grinned.

"Are you serious?" Joe excitedly asked.

"I started missing you even before you left," Dale softly responded. "By lunch time I'd decided, that unless you told me differently, I was putting in a transfer request first thing Monday."

"I'll start looking for apartments for you, furnished right?"

"No, I own all the furniture in my place."

"You do?"

"Yeah, most of it's second hand; I got it a little here and a little there," Dale explained.

"Unfurnished then and I already know what kind of price range to look at. I can't wait for you to be here."

"Me too, I'm going through withdrawals," Dale teased.

"I love you," Joe said, his voice thick with emotion.

Dale smiled, he wished, not for the first time, that Joe was right here beside him. "I love you too. There any chance you could come up tomorrow?"

"I was hoping you'd ask," Joe grinned.

"That a yes?"

"You know it is," came the soft reply.

"You'll spend the night?"

"I'd love to." They talked for a while longer, each reluctant to let the other go. Joe knew he should say good-bye, there was bound to be yard work that needed done, but he couldn't bring himself to say the words. It wasn't until he heard his father's voice downstairs asking about supper that he finally, reluctantly, said his good-byes.

Dale looked around the apartment Joe had found for him. The younger man was right, it was perfect. "Are you sure I can afford this?" he asked again, doubt coloring his words.

"I told you, it's less than you're paying now," Joe replied.

"I can hardly believe that Joe, are you sure you heard the guy right?"

His eyes twinkling mischievously, Joe cupped his hand around his ear and tilted his head. "What's that ya say sonny?"

Laughing, Dale playfully smacked his lover's arm, "Very funny."

"I thought so," Joe grinned. "The rent is just what I told you, your problem is that you're forgetting the cost of living isn't as high outside of the city."

"There is that," Dale admitted with a sheepish grin. "This is a great apartment, especially the second bedroom." Stepping away from Joe, he again opened the door into the second bedroom. He'd never seen a bedroom with no windows in it before. "It's going to make a perfect darkroom."

"I know," Joe said as he came up behind Dale. "That's what I was thinking when I saw it."

"I'll finally be able to move around my darkroom without worrying about knocking equipment or chemical trays over."

"That mean you're going to take it?"

"Of course," Dale smiled. Turning around, he wrapped his arms around Joe. Lowering his head, he claimed Joe's lips in a passionate kiss.

"Oh hell."

The two young men broke apart, one blushing furiously, the other just furious. "Then again maybe not," Dale growled, glaring at the landlord. "You got a problem Mr. Lawson?"

Bill Lawson, turned from his study of the door, though he didn't look at the two men. "Problem?"

"Yeah," Dale snapped. "With us?"

"No, no problem," Lawson replied, his eyes still not on Joe and Dale.

"Look Mr. Lawson I know the law says you can't refuse to rent to me cause of who I love, but if you have a problem with it I'll find someplace else to rent. You don't have to worry about a lawsuit either, I don't need to be where I'm not wanted."

"You think..." Bill trailed off as laughter overcame him.

Joe and Dale exchanged a confused look, neither of them understanding what was so funny.

"Sorry boys," Bill apologized, his hand coming up to wipe tears of laughter from his eyes. "I have a son a little older than you boys and I love him very much; the fact that he's gay makes no difference to me." Bill smiled, the confusion on their faces amusing him, "I wasn't angry to find you boys kissing, just embarrassed, the same way I would have been with any other couple."

Dale blushed, "Sorry I got so mad."

"No need to apologize son, I know what kind of prejudices you've probably encountered. I'm sure I would have assumed the worst too if I were in your shoes. So, do you want the apartment?"

"Yes sir, will you take a check from Global Import/Export?"

"You don't look like you're in management," Bill observed.

"No sir," Dale confirmed. "I'm transferring from New York and they're paying the relocation costs, including the first months rent and security deposit. They gave me an expense account to make it easier, but it's only good for moving expenses."

"I see, you have something to prove that?"

"Yes sir, they gave me a letter that confirms what I just told you," Dale replied. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out the letter and handed it to the other man.

Bill read it over carefully, "Looks to be in order. You write out the check and I'll get you a receipt."

"That was embarrassing," Joe mumbled after Bill left the apartment.

Dale laughed, "Yeah, but it was worth it."

"Worth it?"

"Sure, got to see you blush again," Dale teased. Ignoring Joe's indignant look, he took out the checkbook, and quickly wrote out a check for the rent and security deposit. As he pulled the check loose, Bill Lawson returned, handing him a receipt. Reaching out, Dale shook the older man's hand, "Thank you Mr. Lawson."

Bill nodded, "I don't expect you'll have any trouble from the other tenants, but if you do, let me know."

"Yes sir, I will."

"Good, see you boys later."

"You gonna help me move?" Dale turned to Joe.

"Of course," Joe smiled. "You got boxes yet?"

"No, I didn't see any reason to get any until I had a place."

"Afraid you'd jinx it?"

"Something like that," Dale admitted with an embarrassed laugh.

"Never took you as the superstitious type."

"I'm not," came the quick denial. Seeing a raised eyebrow, Dale found himself blushing, "Well, not usually."

"Just about moving?"

Dale shook his head, "About getting what I want."

"What do you mean?" Joe asked, all signs of teasing gone from his voice.

Dale sighed. Pulling Joe close, he brought one hand up, caressing the side of his lover's face. "Whenever I know something good is going to happen I get nervous, afraid that something will happen to mess it up."

"So you think if you prepare for it..."

"That it won't happen. You know when you were going to move in with me?"

"Yeah?"

"I still hadn't cleaned the extra bedroom out and wouldn't have until you started carrying boxes through the door."

"I guess I can understand that," Joe mumbled thoughtfully.

"Can you?" Dale didn't see how he could, not the boy who had grown up in a happy family, loved and cared for. How would he know what it was to fear that if you dared to want something the universe would snatch it away from you just as you reached for it?

"I know I didn't grow up like you, but for a month I thought I had." Joe sighed, how to find the words to make Dale understand? "During that time I thought I was Joe Harris, the only memories I had were the ones that we'd created for him. I honestly believed I had grown up in foster care, never really wanted, just tolerated. I know it isn't the same Dale, but it gives me an idea of what you went through and how scared you'd be that what you want will be taken from you."

Dale smiled, "You really do understand, don't you?"

"As much as I can," Joe softly replied.

"I love you," Dale whispered.

"Love you back," Joe grinned. Pulling Dale's head down, he eagerly kissed him, putting all the love he felt for this man into the kiss.

"Wow," Dale smiled.

"Ready to go back to the city and pack?"

"You coming with me?"

"You bet."

"Then I'm ready, maybe we better bring your friend Chet with us though or we might not get much packing done," Dale joked.

"That would be one way to make sure we packed, but I'm not sure we can afford to feed Chet. Actually, if you don't mind, I was thinking maybe Frank could help us with the packing."

"You think he would?"

"I think he wants to make up for the way he acted and I know he's trying to accept us being together."

"And you think if he gets to know me better it'll help?"

Joe shrugged, "Couldn't hurt."

"If he's willing it's fine with me, but if he says or does anything to hurt you I'll toss him out on his ear," Dale cautioned.

Joe smiled, when he'd been with Iola and Vanessa he had done the protecting; he couldn't believe how good it felt to be the one who was being protected. "Thank you love."

"So how much time is Global giving you for the move?" Frank asked the next day as he packed boxes.

"They're giving me ten days."

"That much?"

"Yeah, apparently it's standard for a short move like this one. They said if I was transferring to the other side of the country I would have gotten six weeks."

"I'm glad they give you that much time, it'll give me time to show you around Bayport before you have to start work," Joe commented.

"When are you going to rent a moving van?"

"If we get everything boxed up in time I'll go rent one this afternoon, otherwise first thing in the morning."

Frank nodded, "Sounds like a good plan." Opening the closet, he expected to see the normal coats and umbrellas, maybe some Christmas decorations. "I didn't know you had a darkroom," his voice tinged with surprise.

"I've had it for about a year, gonna be great to have that nice big room in the new place to work in."

Frank stepped forward, absently examining the equipment as he packed it up, he couldn't help noticing the quality. "This is a pretty high dollar set-up," he commented.

"Frank," Joe snapped, the warning clear in his voice.

"It's okay Joe, don't tell me you didn't wonder how somebody like me could afford stuff like that," Dale scoffed. "Either of you ever heard of Phillip Winslow?"

Frank shook his head, but Joe instantly recognized the name. "The photographer?"

"The same," Dale smiled. "I met him one day in Central Park when I was taking pictures. Even though I only had a cheap 35mm he saw something, a joy he said, in what I was doing." Dale's face had taken on a wistful look as he remembered that day in the park. Shaking himself from his memories, he continued, "Anyway, he came up to me and introduced himself. He asked if I had any examples of my work and when I told him I did, he gave me his card, told me to come see him and bring some samples. I almost didn't do it, thought he was just humoring me."

"You did go see him though?" Frank asked.

"Yeah, got to thinking about it and decided I didn't have anything to lose. When he saw my work, he gave me a few pointers and told me to come back in a week with new pictures. He told me later that it was a test, he wanted to see if I could take instruction."

"What happened when you came back?" Joe asked.

"He offered to teach me. You can bet I jumped at the chance, I've never regretted it either. He died last year," Dale continued, turning sad. "He didn't have any family, except for some distant cousins." Something else they'd had in common, he thought to himself. "So, when he found out he was dying and could no longer work, he gave me all of his equipment. He didn't want people he'd never known to get it and he wanted to be sure it would be used by somebody who would appreciate it. I would have rather kept him around," Dale sighed, once again missing his friend and teacher.

"It must have been hard for you," Joe whispered, his arms encircling the older boy's waist.

"It was, but I'm glad I got the chance to get to know him. Spending time with him was almost like having a father again," he sighed.

Frank glanced away. He felt like an intruder on a very private moment. Grabbing a box, he stepped into the small space of the makeshift darkroom and began packing. As he did, he could hear Dale and Joe talking quietly. Though he couldn't make out the words, he recognized the comforting tone of his brother's voice; it was a tone he'd heard his mother use with his father when a case went bad. After a few minutes, he heard them moving away from each other as they got back to work. From within the confines of the darkroom, Frank listened to them teasing and joking, each word laced with the love they felt for each other and it suddenly struck him. Joe wasn't confused; he wasn't fooling himself; this wasn't some phase he was going through; his little brother was as in love with Dale as he'd ever been with Iola or Vanessa. No, hearing the deep love and contentment Joe's voice held, Frank realized the love he felt for Dale went deeper than what he'd felt for his girlfriends. The sudden revelation was quickly followed by understanding and acceptance. All Frank had ever wanted for his brother was happiness, if that was Dale, and it obviously was, then he would do all he could to support Joe's choice.

TBC

Hope y'all liked it, please feed the muse with reviews.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hardy Boys, not making any money, just cheap thrills.

Warnings: Angst, Slash, Violence

Rating: FRT

Italics indicate a flashback scene

Discoveries

Chapter 11

Biff nearly walked out of Mr. Pizza the moment he stepped through the door. Standing in the doorway, he watched the group of friends sitting at their usual table. It hadn't been very long ago that he had been a part of that happy group. All of that had changed though with Joe's announcement. His eyes swept over the people at the table, all of them had been his friends for many years. Most long enough that he couldn't remember a time without them in his life. Seeing them enjoying themselves, his eyes grew soft with memories of the good times and adventures they'd shared through the years.

His gaze came to rest on the stranger in their midst, his eyes hardening with anger. Damn him! He had no right to claim Joe. Everything had been fine until he'd come into the blond's life. Biff had no idea how this man had convinced his friend that he actually had feelings for him, but he knew it wasn't right!

"If you're going to cause trouble, leave now."

Biff turned, shaking his head. "Actually I'm trying to work up the nerve to go over there and apologize."

Tony shot him a disbelieving look. "That wasn't what it looked like."

"Oh, and what did it look like?"

"Looked like you wanted to go over there and tear Dale apart."

Biff chuckled, Tony didn't know how close to the truth he was. "Maybe, but I've missed Joe's and everybody else's friendship the last few weeks, so I won't."

"He's not a bad guy once you get to know him Biff," Tony quietly informed him.

"How can you say that after what he's done?"

Tony's eyebrow rose, "What he's done?"

"You don't really think Joe belongs with him?"

"I admit I wasn't too sure what to think about it all when Joe first told us about Dale, but now..."

"Now?"

"I can see that they genuinely love each other and while I'm still not completely comfortable with it, I don't think it's probably any of my business either."

"So you'll just turn a blind eye and let this guy ruin Joe's life?"

"I don't see it that way Biff and if you do then I wouldn't bother apologizing to Joe," Tony coldly replied. Not bothering to excuse himself, he made his way to the table where his friends were having a good time.

"Hey Tony, you better join us soon or there won't be any pizza left," Frank teased.

Tony laughed, "You think I don't know that the two bottomless pits here will eat it all?" He already had more pizza ready in the back and he knew Frank was aware of it, in spite of his teasing.

"Hey!" Chet objected.

"I'll have you know Prito that..." Joe trailed off, all traces of humor gone from his voice.

Tony instantly knew what, or rather who, Joe had spotted. "Don't let him get to you Joe."

"I don't want to cause you any trouble Tony, but I won't let him say anything out of line to either of us," Joe warned his friend.

Biff visibly flinched, if looks could kill he would have been dead several times over from the looks his friends were shooting his way. Taking a deep breath, he reminded himself that if his plan were to work he had to be close to his friends. In the meantime, he'd just have to deal with the necessary evil of being close to that piece of trash Joe thought he loved. Praying he could pull this off, he walked over to the table. "Hey guys," he gave his customary greeting.

By unspoken agreement, the others at the table let Joe take the lead. "What do you want Biff?" Joe asked.

Biff looked away to hide the anger he knew would be in his eyes at the sight of Dale rubbing Joe's back in a comforting gesture. Regaining control, he turned back to the blond. "I want to apologize to all of you," his eyes taking in the others at the table, "but especially you Joe. I had no right to act the way I did that day and ignoring you all these weeks is unforgivable. Still, I hope you can forgive me for the horrible way I behaved. Please Joe, you're the best friend I've ever had and I don't want to lose that friendship."

Joe didn't miss the way Biff looked away, but he supposed he couldn't blame the other boy for being uncomfortable. Glancing around the table, he could see that the others at the table were willing to let him make the decision. The power they were giving him touched him even as it frightened him. Uncertain as to what, if anything, he should say about that, he decided to let it go for now. Making a decision, he picked up a slice of pizza and laid it on a plate; he handed it to Biff.

Smiling broadly, Biff accepted the plate and slid into a vacant chair.

"Biff Hooper this is Dale Morris, my boyfriend," Joe introduced the two, his expression daring the other blond to say anything.

Biff didn't miss the warning note in Joe's voice as he made the introductions. Forcing himself to appear calm, he held out his hand to the other man. "Hi."

"It's nice to meet you Biff," Dale greeted. Though his words and tone were friendly enough, the tight smile on his face made it clear that he wasn't particularly happy to be meeting this friend of Joe's. He loved Joe for his ability to forgive, but remembering the nights of holding his lover when he woke from a nightmare made it impossible for him to so easily let the hurt Biff had caused fade into memory. He would though, for Joe's sake, do his best to give the man a second chance. Silently, he vowed that if Hooper ever again hurt the man Dale loved, he would make sure he lived to regret it.

Biff congratulated himself as he drove home from the mall a few hours later. Now all he had to do was wait for an opportunity to carry out his plan.

Joe was at Dale's apartment a few weeks later, as he was most nights, when his cell phone rang. "Sorry love, it's my dad," he apologized. "Hi Dad, what's up?"

"Joe I'm sorry to interrupt your evening but I need you to come home."

Joe swore his heart stopped, "What's wrong?"

"Nobody's hurt," Fenton quickly assured him. "I do need to talk to you though, please come home and bring Dale with you."

"We'll be there in a few minutes." Closing the phone, Joe turned to his lover, "Sorry but it sounds important."

"It's okay baby, we can pick up where we left off later," Dale smiled. Standing up, he pulled Joe to his feet and headed for the door.

"In a hurry?"

"Sure," Dale grinned. "The sooner we find out what your dad wants the sooner we get back to what we were doing."

Joe laughed as his lover waggled his eyebrows at him, "I like the way you think love."

"I thought you'd approve," Dale grinned.

A short time later they were walking into the house on Elm street. Joe wasn't surprised to see that Frank was already there. He wondered, again, what was going on, it couldn't be a case or his father wouldn't have asked for Dale to join them. "What's going on?" he asked his brother as he and Dale sat down on the couch.

"I don't know, Dad hasn't told me anything yet."

"You don't think it's a case do you?"

"I doubt that Joe, he wouldn't ask Dale to help him on a case," Frank pointed out, confirming Joe's thoughts. "No offense Dale."

"None taken, I'm not a detective so it makes sense he wouldn't ask for my help on a case," Dale easily responded.

"Oh good, you're here," Fenton said as he entered the room.

"It sounded serious..."

"It is," Fenton confirmed. Opening the file folder he held, he pulled out a picture and handed it to Frank.

"Who is he?" Frank asked as he passed the picture over to Joe.

"His name if Frederick Larson," Fenton replied.

"What did he do?" Joe asked.

"Ten years ago he terrorized several small towns in upstate New York. Over a three month period, nine boys turned up dead."

"Larson?" Frank asked.

"Yes, every ten days a boy went missing. Nine days later his body would turn up in his own back yard, posed in some sort of perverted way. The FBI was called in but they weren't having any luck, one of the boys came from a wealthy family."

"His family hired you," Joe supplied. He didn't need to ask, he knew that had to be the case. "When did he escape?"

"Joe?" Dale questioned. He was confused, how could his lover know the man had escaped.

"Last night, I just got the call a short time ago. As I'm sure you've already surmised Larson vowed to get revenge against me."

"And you think he'll come after us?" Frank asked, though it sounded more like a statement.

"The boys he went after were all in their late teens, most were athletic and all but one was blond."

"Of course they were," Joe snapped bitterly.

Fenton gave his son a sad smile, "I'm sorry Joe."

Joe sighed, "No, I'm sorry Dad. It's not your fault that all the psychos come after me."

"Maybe it's not, but you didn't choose to have a detective for a father."

"Dad I've always been proud of the help you give to people," Joe quietly vowed. "Now, what do you want me to do?"

"I want you to go to a safe house and hide until Larson is caught, but I know that won't be happening," Fenton quickly added before his son could protest. "I'll settle for you being extra careful and not going anywhere alone. I mean it Joe, I don't even want you going to the restroom at the mall by yourself."

"Don't you think that's a bit extreme Dad?"

"No I don't, every one of Larson's victims was taken when he was alone and a couple were snatched in broad daylight in public places. I mean it Joe or I will insist you be placed in protective custody."

"All right," Joe reluctantly agreed to the stringent requirements. "What about Frank?"

"The same rules apply to Frank, though to be honest I suspect you'll be the most likely target. There's one other restriction on you Frank, any dates with Callie will have to be doubles."

"Callie won't like that."

"I'm sure she won't, but she wouldn't be much of a deterrent to Larson should he decide to go after you."

"Yes sir, I'll let her know."

"I know this is hard on you boys, hopefully it will only be for a few days."

Thanks to the practice he'd gotten in the past few weeks, Biff was able to hide his smile when Frank and Joe told the gang the news. He certainly didn't want anything to happen to Joe, but this was the perfect opportunity to put his plan into action. "I'll call the college and tell them I can't be there until the day before classes start," Biff offered. As he had expected, the offer was immediately refused.

"You can't do that Biff," Joe was the first to object.

"Joe's right," Frank quickly agreed. "You said that they want all of the athletic scholarship award winners to arrive three weeks before the start of classes, you have to leave on schedule."

"We appreciate the offer Biff, but we're not going to let you throw away your scholarship like that."

Biff frowned, "You guys are more important than any scholarship."

Joe smiled, "Nice sentiment buddy, but you're wrong. Look this isn't the first time we've had to deal with some old case of Dad's coming back to bite us and it won't be the last. No, you go on and leave tomorrow just like you were planning," Joe firmly insisted.

"Are you sure?"

"We're sure Hooper," Frank replied for them both.

Biff sighed, "Okay, I will," he reluctantly agreed. "I want regular updates though," he sternly ordered.

"You got it," Joe smiled.

Dale listened quietly to the conversation. He wasn't sure what, but something about it didn't ring true. Give it up Morris, just because your lover is a detective doesn't mean you're any good at it, he told himself. Probably just imagining things.

"I hate to do it, but I guess if I'm going to leave in the morning I'd better get going," Biff said. Pushing himself to his feet, with obvious reluctance, he left the pizza parlor and headed home.

Dale moaned, his hand instinctively coming up to rub along the back of his skull. He winced as his fingers encountered a tender bump. What had happened? "Joe what...?" he trailed off; the memories returning with painful clarity. He staggered to his feet and stumbled to the phone. Picking it up, he began to call 911, but as if they had a mind of their own, his fingers instead dialed the Hardy home.

"Hardy residence."

Dale couldn't help the feeling of relief that washed over him when he heard Mr. Hardy's voice. "Joe's gone Mr. Hardy, I'm sorry I couldn't protect him."

Fenton's blood ran cold, "Dale, what do you mean gone?"

"He took him, I tried to stop him but I couldn't. Please Mr. Hardy you have to find him, I'm sorry, God I'm so sorry," Dale cried.

"Have you called the police?"

"No, not yet," Dale softly admitted. I'm sorry Joe, my stupidity is going to get you...no, he's gonna be okay, his dad will find him in time.

"I want you to hang up the phone and call them, Frank and I are on our way. Do you understand Dale?" Fenton asked, concerned by the fear and pain he could hear in the boy's voice.

"Yeah, call the police," Dale acknowledged the instruction. "Please hurry Mr. Hardy," he plead.

"We'll be there soon," Fenton assured him. Hanging up the phone, he hurried up the stairs to Frank's room.

The sound of the door opening tore Frank's attention from his computer monitor. Expecting to see his little brother, he had his mouth open to greet him, snapping it shut when he saw his father. One look at the older man's face was enough to tell Frank, but still he had to ask, "Joe?"

"Dale just called, Larson has him."

Frank jumped to his feet and followed his father down the stairs. Waiting impatiently for his father to tell his mother what was happening he couldn't stop the nightmare scenes that flashed through his mind. Stop it, you're not helping Joe any by letting your imagination run away with you he ordered himself.

Dale sat down on his couch, his head held dejectedly in his hands. While he waited for the police and the Hardys to arrive he couldn't help wishing he had given into Joe's pleas.

_"I don't want to wait Dale," Joe whispered in his lover's ear._

_Dale felt a thrill of desire wash through him; wrapping his arms more tightly around his lover, he lowered his head, kissing him deeply. Pressing the slightly smaller man back into the couch cushions, he let his hands roam over the gorgeous body beneath him as their kisses grew more heated. _

_"Yes, please love, take me, make love to me," Joe's breathless pleas sounded like a gunshot in the quiet apartment._

_Tearing himself away from his lover, Dale sat up and moved away; he needed some distance between them. "Not like this Joe, our first time is going to be because it's the right time to take our love further."_

_"What makes you think it's not the right time?" Joe softly asked. _

_Dale flinched at the hurt he could hear in Joe's voice. "Joe I love you, please don't ever doubt that."_

_"But?"_

_"You're scared, I am too, but our first time shouldn't be a reaction to that fear."_

_"Maybe I'm just ready, you ever think of that?" _

_Dale raised an eyebrow, shooting his lover a disbelieving look._

_Joe sighed, "I am ready love, but you're right too, I am reacting, at least partially, to the fear that Larson will get his hands on me. I don't want to die without ever knowing what it feels like to be claimed by the man I love."_

_Dale opened his arms, inviting his lover back into them. "Are you sure you're ready?"_

_"Oh yeah," Joe smiled. _

_"Then you'll still be ready when this mess is over with." Joe's disappointed sigh brought a smile to Dale's face. "I promise you a night you won't forget," he whispered._

_Joe tilted his face up, looking Dale in the eye, "That's a promise I'm going to hold you to love."_

Dale groaned miserably as the realization that it was a promise he might not get the chance to keep sank in. It hadn't been very long after that when they headed to Joe's van. They had started down the hall when Joe suddenly slapped a hand to his neck, collapsing a moment later. He shouldn't have taken the time to catch Joe, if he hadn't he might have had the chance to protect Joe. However, instinct had taken over and he had caught his lover, lowering him gently to the floor. The last thing he remembered, before pain had exploded in his head and darkness claimed him, was the sight of a dart sticking out of Joe's neck. He had no idea how he'd ended up in his apartment, though he supposed Larson must have brought him there for some reason.

He carried the unconscious man into the place he had prepared. Dumping him on the bed, he secured his wrists and ankles with chains, insuring that there would be no escape. Running his hand down the young man's face, he resisted the urge to slap him awake. Soon, he told himself, soon I will have what I want.

TBC

Hope y'all liked the chapter, please feed the muse with reviews.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hardy Boys, not making any money, just cheap thrills.

Warnings: Angst, Slash, Violence

Rating: FRT

Discoveries

Chapter 12

The Hardy's and the police arrived at Dale's apartment almost simultaneously. Fenton acknowledged Con Riley with a curt nod as he stepped in front of him to knock on the door. Beside him Frank shifted impatiently while they waited for the door to be opened. Fenton had just raised his hand to rap again when the door was replaced by a pale and trembling Dale Morris. Quickly, before he could fall, Fenton stepped forward, wrapping one arm around the younger man's waist. "Come on son, you need to sit down before you collapse," he cautioned as he led Dale to the couch.

"Don't worry about me, just find Joe," Dale plead.

"Can you tell us what happened?"

"I was walking Joe out to his van and all of a sudden he grabbed his neck and collapsed. I just barely managed to catch him. The last thing I remember is seeing a dart sticking out of his throat; when I woke up I was back in my apartment and Joe was gone. I should have been watching closer, if I'd done a better job that...Joe wouldn't be in danger."

Con exchanged a worried glance with Fenton, "Did you see anybody at all?"

Dale shook his head miserably. "Mr. Hardy, what's going to happen to Joe?"

"Nothing, because we're going to find him before Larson has the chance to do anything."

"Dad..." Frank began only to be cut off by an angry Dale.

"I know I'm not a detective but I'm not stupid. You don't know where Larson is or he would've been picked up already so please don't patronize me."

Fenton sighed, "All right, I'm sorry I did that but I can't answer your question."

"Can't or won't?"

"Won't," Fenton firmly replied. There was no way he was telling Dale of the horrific torture Joe was most likely facing. "Frank you stay here with Dale, Con and I will go outside and see if we can find anything." He didn't wait to see if his son would obey. Standing up, he followed Riley outside, though he was sure there would be nothing to find. Larson was too careful for that, if it was Larson.

"Are you sure it's Larson?" Con asked once they were outside.

"No," Fenton shook his head, "no I'm not. Larson always took his victims when they were alone and if he used a dart on Joe why hit Dale? He took a pretty big risk with that, if Dale had turned around Larson could have had a fight on his hands."

Con nodded, "That's what I was thinking, but if it isn't Larson then who else could it be?"

"That's what I intend to find out," Fenton grimly answered.

The moment the door shut, Frank turned to Dale. "Let me see your head," he quietly ordered.

"I'm okay," Dale mumbled.

"Probably, but you won't do Joe any good if you collapse so let me check you out." It only took a moment to determine that the older boy's head wasn't bleeding, though he had a nice goose egg going. Turning Dale's head, he looked into his eyes, searching for any sign of concussion. "Any dizziness or nausea?"

"Not now, I was a little dizzy when I first woke up, but it's gone now, as long as I don't stand up too fast."

"I'm not a doctor but I don't think you have a concussion. Of course you can bet Dad will still insist on you seeing a doctor, just to be safe," Frank warned.

"I don't need a doctor, I just need Joe."

"I know," Frank mumbled. This was the worst part of any kidnapping, the waiting.

"Frank?"

"Yeah?"

"Joe told your Dad that it wasn't his fault all the psychos came after him, how many times has this happened?"

"Too many," came the curt response. "Maybe it's because he's the youngest, that's what Dad thinks, but for whatever reason it seems Joe is usually the one to get kidnapped whenever somebody wants revenge against our father."

"How can he put you guys in danger like that?"

"It goes with the territory," Frank absently replied. He wanted to say more to defend his father, he really did, but it was a question he'd had himself. He'd never found a satisfactory answer. Their father helped a lot of people, had saved many lives through the years and wracked up as many enemies it seemed. How could they ask their dad to stop helping? How could he keep helping when he knew it endangered his family? Yet, Frank and Joe were following in his footsteps, in spite of knowing that if they ever had families of their own, they too would be put in danger. Knowing that, how could he question his father's decisions?

"I don't see how you can be so calm about it, guess you're use to it."

"It's not something you can get use to," Frank quietly spoke. "It's more accurate to say that I've learned getting upset not only doesn't help, it actually impedes the search." Realizing what he'd said, he quickly moved to reassure Dale, "You handled yourself pretty well for your first time dealing with something like this."

"Really?"

"Yeah, you're staying calm and not insisting on helping search for any clues Larson might have left behind."

"I'm not calm at all, but I don't see how ranting and raving is going to help. As for searching, I know I'm not a detective and I'd just get in the way, might even destroy a clue accidentally."

"Like I said, you're handling yourself real well."

"You find anything Con?" Fenton asked.

"No," Con sighed. "There's some prints here, but nothing distinctive about them."

Fenton dropped to one knee, examining the prints more closely. He was forced, however, to agree with Con, there was nothing that stood out about the prints. As he pushed himself to his feet the flash of something metallic at the far edge of the trail of prints caught his eye. "What is this?" he mumbled as he moved to pick the item up. It was a small, oddly shaped piece of metal with a number stamped on one side. It was strangely familiar, but he couldn't place it.

"What did you find?" Con asked.

"Oh, just a token of some kind," Fenton absently replied; his mind focused on remembering where he'd seen such a thing before.

"Do you think it's a clue to where Larson is?"

"It could be, or some kid could have dropped it." He handed the metal to Con.

"Weird, you ever seen anything like this?"

"I think I have but I can't think where. Damn it," he snapped, his frustration getting the better of him.

Con glanced at him, surprised, "We'll find Joe, I promise you Mr. Hardy."

"But will we find him in time?" Fenton quietly asked. "I need to go tell Frank what we found."

"I'll wait for forensics to get here." As Fenton started to walk away, Con called out to him. "Why don't you show this to Frank? Maybe he'll recognize it," he suggested.

Fenton nodded, accepting the small piece of metal.

He had waited for what seemed like hours, though he knew it had only been a short time since he'd arrived here. Most of the time since taking Joe had been spent driving to the place he'd chosen. He had imagined, as he drove the look on the other man's face when he woke up alone. He wondered how the Hardy's would react when they realized how easily he had taken Joe from them. By now he was sure they knew that Joe was missing, perhaps the forensics team would have finished what they needed to do at this time. He laughed, knowing it would do them no good to search the scene. He had been careful to leave no clues that would allow them to be found.

"What are we going to do now Dad?" It had been six hours since Joe's abduction and they had nothing to go on. Unless you counted the oddly shaped piece of metal. Like his father he thought it was familiar, but it could easily have been dropped by somebody else in the neighborhood; there was nothing to say it was connected to Joe's disappearance.

After his father had searched the area with Con, the two of them had insisted on taking Dale back to the house with them. It was funny how much things had changed, as far as his feelings towards Dale went, in the few weeks since Joe had come back home. He had spent enough time around Joe and Dale in that time to see that they genuinely loved each other. Besides Dale had the one ability guaranteed to get Frank on his side; he made Joe happier than he'd ever been. There was no way he would leave the other man alone with Joe missing, his little brother would never forgive him, nor would he forgive himself, if he let Dale deal with his fear alone and injured.

Fenton glanced at his son, clearly hearing the frustration in Frank's voice. It had been hours and they'd heard nothing. Now Con Riley had just left, after telling them that the forensics team had found nothing useful. "The only thing we can do son. We go through the files on Larson, interview anybody who knew him and pray that we can determine where he might have taken Joe."

"Excuse me Mr. Hardy, but it doesn't sound like you think there's much chance," Dale interjected.

Fenton glanced sympathetically at the shaken young man, "There's always a chance Dale and we won't give up until we have Joe back or..." He paused, how could he complete that sentence? It felt almost like a betrayal of his son to even consider the possibility of finding Joe too late, but he wasn't able to stick his head in the sand like so many others did. "I'm sorry Dale but we have to face the fact that we may not find Joe in time. I promise you, both of you," his glance taking in Frank as well, "I will do everything in my power to bring him home alive."

Dale nodded, "What can I do?"

"Help Mrs. Hardy to keep us in sandwiches and coffee while we go through the files?" Fenton hoped he wouldn't insist on helping with the files. It was bad enough that Frank was being forced to read about the things Larson had done, knowing his brother might be going through the same things, he didn't want to subject Dale to them too. At least Frank had experience with this sort of thing, the other boy had never seen anything so horrific.

"I'd rather help you look through the files. I know I'm not a detective, but that might be an advantage. Maybe I'll see something a more experienced eye would dismiss as unimportant," Dale suggested.

"He has a point Dad."

Reluctantly Fenton gave in, "All right. You look at the files Frank has, after he's done, see what you can pick up."

It had been too long, he should have woke up by now. Maybe he had used too much of the tranquilizer. Pacing the small room, he glanced repeatedly at the figure chained to the bed, growing more worried with each passing minute. Just as he was about to begin shaking Joe, a small moan sounded from the blond's throat.

Joe slowly blinked open his eyes, man his head hurt. It was his attempt to bring his hand to his forehead which alerted him to the presence of the chains on his wrists. Looking down at his body, he shook with a combination of fear and anger as he took in the matching chains on his ankles and the absence of clothes on his body. "No, please no," he moaned. Larson had gotten to him, in spite of their precautions.

It was then he remembered where he had been and who was with him when he passed out. "Dale!" he cried out, instinctively trying to sit up, only managing a couple of inches before the chains tugged him back to the mattress.

"You won't be seeing him again."

Joe turned his head, his eyes widening at the sight of his captor. "If you hurt him I'll kill you!"

"He's fine, a bit of a headache but that couldn't be helped."

"What did you do to him?" Joe demanded.

"Knocked him out," came the calm reply. "Or would you rather I had brought him along?" he taunted.

"No! You leave him alone."

"You're in no position to be giving orders."

Joe hated the smirk on the other's face. "If I wasn't chained I'd wipe that look off your face," he growled.

"Of course you would," he amicably agreed. Stepping away from the bed he picked something up from the nearby dresser. Lovingly he caressed it, this was the first step in getting what he wanted.

Joe nervously watched his captor, wondering what he was doing in front of the dresser. "What are you going to do with me?" When he turned to face him, Joe wished he hadn't asked.

"You have to be punished," he calmly informed the boy in the bed.

"Why? Because I dared to love a man?" he yelled.

"No," Biff replied. "Because you refused to love me," he snarled as he let go with the whip he held. As if the sound of the leather striking bare flesh had released something primal inside him, he began to beat Joe with an unbridled rage.

Joe had been reduced to nothing more than a mass of painful welts by the time Biff finally dropped the whip. He tried to focus on the other boy as he moved about the room, gathering supplies, for what he didn't know. He didn't think he wanted to know either. As he lay on the bed, consumed by the pain of his body and the pain of betrayal, he found himself praying that his father and Frank would find him soon. _You know they won't, he reminded himself, they'll think Larson has you. It'll never occur to them to look here. _

"I'm sorry I had to do that Joe, but you had to be punished," Biff calmly stated.

Joe watched his former friend, his eyes filled with confusion. How could he be so calm right after beating him until he was on the verge of passing out? "Will you let me go now?" He had to ask, though he was pretty sure of the answer.

"No, this was just the first step."

"The first step?" Joe nervously questioned.

"Yes," Biff confirmed. "Now you must be cleansed."

"Cleansed?" He had a feeling Biff wasn't talking about a simple bath.

"Yes. How can I make you mine if I don't cleanse you of his touch?"

The question was asked in such a matter of fact way that it took Joe a moment to process the full implication of it. When he did, horror lighted his eyes. "No, please Biff, don't do this," he begged as he struggled uselessly against the chains.

"I have to Joe, don't you see? We belong together, you'll realize that soon," Biff confidently went on.

"I will never accept that," he glared.

Biff ignored him as he set about making his preparations. Putting the bedside table to use, he laid out a scrub brush and a bar of strong lye soap. It hadn't been as hard to find lye soap as he had feared it would be. All he'd needed to do was stop at one of the many farm stands that dotted the scenery in Vermont. He'd purposely chosen one fifty miles from his family's fishing cabin. He didn't want anybody in the area to wonder why he would want lye soap. "I'll be back soon Joe, have to heat the water."

Joe eyed the items on the nightstand nervously. He could smell the strong scent of lye coming from the soap. He knew that it, along with the hard bristled scrub brush would be agony on the welts covering his body.

"The water is heating," Biff announced as he returned.

"Please Biff, if you really care about me you won't do this."

"I don't want to Joe, I have to. I've loved you for years, but I never thought you'd be interested in a guy. Then you come back from the city and tell us you're in love with that...that... He's not good enough for you Joe, you should be with somebody worthy of you."

"Somebody like you?" Joe sneered. "You think beating me and cleansing," he emphasized the word, "me are the way to prove you're worthy? If you really loved me, you'd never do something like this to me."

"Shut up," Biff snapped, punctuating the order with a hard slap that rocked Joe's head to the side. "The water should be hot by now."

Joe dropped his head back to the pillow. There had to be a way to get through to Biff; he didn't want his first time to be like this. Raped at the hands of somebody he'd thought was his friend. Please God help me, don't let this happen, he silently prayed. Biff chose this moment to return, carrying a large pan of steaming water. "No, Biff don't do itttttttt!" The final word ended with a scream of agony as the pan of scalding water was suddenly thrown over him.

"Have to cleanse you darling," Biff mumbled as he ran the lye soap over Joe's reddened, welt covered body. Picking up the scrub brush he went to work, determined to rid his love of Dale's touch. "You'll see Joe, I'll make it special for you I promise. As soon as you're clean I'll let you rest," he smiled. "I've thought about nothing else since you told us of the discovery you'd made about yourself. I'm going to be your first and last lover darling, you'll never want another after you've been with me. Would you like to know what I have planned for our first time?"

Joe could hear Biff talking, but it was as if he were at the other end of a long tunnel. Every word was muted by the intense pain as his skin was viciously scrubbed by his would be lover. He wanted to beg him again to stop, but no words would come, moans and whimpers were all he was capable of as the pain threatened to overwhelm him.

"I know, it's hard to wait but you must," he soothed, misunderstanding the moans and whimpers. "I want your first time, our first time to be as special as it can be. After you've been cleansed you can sleep. I will wake you shortly before dawn and as the sun peaks over the horizon I will claim you as mine. The way it should have always been," he nearly growled.

The horror and pain finally becoming too much, Joe lapsed into merciful unconsciousness.

Biff smiled at his sleeping love. "Yes darling, rest now. With the coming of the dawn, we will become one."

It was nearly midnight when Fenton received the call that changed everything. Hanging up the receiver, he glanced at the worried faces of Frank and Dale. "That was Ezra Collig," he needlessly informed them.

"We heard," Frank said. "What's wrong Dad? Is," he swallowed hard, "is Joe dead?"

"No!" Fenton just barely kept from yelling. "No son, but you can put those files away now."

Frank shared a confused look with Dale, "Why?"

"Frederick Larson has been found twenty-five miles from Bayport...dead."

"No," Frank whispered. "How will we find Joe now?"

"Larson never had him."

"How do you know that Mr. Hardy? Did he tell the police that before he died?" Dale asked.

"No, he's been dead at least three days according to the coroner," Fenton sadly shared the news he'd just been given.

Dale's already pale face lost what little color it held, "Who has Joe then?"

"I don't know," Fenton was forced to admit.

Frank stood, pacing his father's office as he tried to wrap his mind around this latest development. A flash of metal caught his eye, drawing him to the desk. Picking up the small metal token, he turned it in his hand, not really aware of what he was doing.

Fenton watched him for several minutes. He could see Frank's agile mind working as he processed the changes this news made in the search for Joe.

"Biff," Frank whispered.

"What?" Fenton was confused, what did Biff have to do with this?

"I know where I've seen this token, or one like it. There's a convenience store near his family's fishing cabin in Vermont. They hand these out to every customer and once a week they have a drawing for a free tank of gas."

"I don't understand, how would that have...," Dale trailed off as realization set in. "You think Biff took Joe?"

"Why would he do that?" Fenton asked.

"He was furious when Joe told him about Dale. What if his apology was just an act to get close to Joe? Maybe he decided to take advantage of Larson's escape to teach Joe a lesson," Frank suggested.

"Oh god," Dale gasped. He knew what kind of things bigots had done to those they didn't approve of. The thought of those things happening to Joe sickened him.

"Frank gather up first aid supplies. I'll leave a note for your mother and call Collig. I'll have him call the police in Vermont and ask them to provide back-up for us. We'll take my car, we can make better time with it than with your van."

"I'm coming too," Dale interrupted.

Fenton nodded, he knew there was no way he could keep the boy away, no more than he would have stayed away if somebody had taken Laura. He dialed the phone as Frank and Dale left the room to gather supplies.

As the clock struck twelve, the three men were walking out the front door of the Hardy home. Each of them praying that they would reach Joe before it was too late.

TBC

Hope y'all liked it. Please feed the muse with reviews.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hardy Boys, not making any money, just cheap thrills.

Warnings: Slash, Angst, Violence

Rating: FRT

Discoveries

Chapter 13

A soft beeping was the first thing he became aware of, the next being the feel of a strong arm laid across his stomach. He smiled, the sound he'd heard must be Dale's alarm going off. Joe moved to turn off the alarm; the chain on his wrist made a clinking noise as it stopped his movement. "No," he whispered as memories rushed back. "Please God, help me." Instinctively he shifted, desperately wanting Biff's arm removed from his body.

"Anxious darling?" Biff whispered, a small smile crossing his face. "It won't be long I promise, but we have to wait for the right moment. I want our first time to be special, something you'll always remember." As he spoke, his hands moved gently over Joe's body, caressing and teasing him.

"Get your hands off of me," Joe growled. The feel of the other man's hands on him, touching him as if they were lovers, sickened him.

"You don't mean that Joe," Biff protested.

"I damn well do mean it."

"Why are you acting this way darling? I know you love me."

Joe glared at the other blond. "I hate you Biff! I love Dale, not you."

Biff sighed, "Please don't say that Joe," he plead. "I don't want to have to punish you again, but I will."

Joe paled, the thought of being whipped again brought the pain he felt to the forefront. "No, don't punish me," he whispered.

"I won't, but you can't love Dale."

Joe swallowed hard. He told himself if he couldn't escape, he'd never make it back to Dale. It didn't help; deep inside he knew it was the fear that drove him to cooperate. "I won't," he softly agreed.

"You have to love me," Biff continued. "We were meant to be together Joe, you see that don't you?"

"I see it Biff," he quietly answered, though he couldn't look the other man in the eye. "I'm not ready to be with you though, could we wait?"

"You're just nervous Joe, you'll enjoy it, I promise." Leaning over, Biff pressed his lips against Joe's.

He couldn't do it. Joe turned his head away, ending the kiss before it had really began.

Biff's eyes darkened with anger. Grabbing Joe's chin, he twisted his head towards him. "You don't see it do you Joe? You still want him," he growled.

"No, that's not it Biff, I'm just not ready..."

Biff cut him off, "Well you better get ready, because we will be together. I will make you mine," he vowed.

"How close are we?" Dale asked.

"Not far," Frank replied, letting his father concentrate on the road. "We should get there just before sunrise."

Dale glanced at the sky, if he was judging it right, they should be there within the next thirty minutes. He just hoped they would get there before it was too late. It amazed him that Joe, in only a few short months, had so completely claimed his heart. He couldn't lose Joe. He would never survive, wouldn't want to survive, if he lost his lover. As he silently prayed that they would reach Joe before it was too late, he was vowing that if Joe were gone, Biff would be die as slowly and painfully as he could manage.

Fenton pulled off the road and parked when they were still half a mile from the cabin. "We'll walk from here," he announced, mostly for Dale's benefit. He knew Frank would have already realized why he was parking. "Frank, make sure you bring the first aid kit." Checking his gun, he made sure he had a full clip. He hoped it wouldn't be necessary to shoot Biff. Fenton had never liked shooting, possibly killing, any of the men and women he'd brought to justice over the years; this time was even worse. Closing the car door, he silently led the way towards the cabin.

"It's time darling," Biff softly spoke next to Joe's ear. "The sun will be up soon," he continued as he reached for a jar of vaseline.

"No, please Biff...I'm not ready," Joe plead as he struggled uselessly against the chains.

"Shhh, you're just nervous Joe, that's all. You'll enjoy it, I promise," Biff soothed. Moving his fingers lower, he kept his gaze focused on Joe. He wanted to watch his love's face through each second of their first time together.

"No, no, no," Joe whispered like a mantra. He felt fingers brushing against him and then...pain, wringing a cry from his lips.

Sound carried well in the quiet woods; thirty yards from the cabin, they heard a cry of pain. Exchanging frightened glances, the three men took off at a run for the small building.

"Yes," Biff hissed, desire rushing through him like an all consuming fire. Shifting, he moved between Joe's outstretched legs. "Look out the window darling, watch the sun rise over the horizon as I claim you," he softly spoke.

Joe violently shook his head, this couldn't be happening. Unable to stop Biff, with no escape in sight, he protected himself the only way he could; he fled into his mind, hiding from the horror of reality.

Dale was the first one through the door. For one horrified moment, he stared at the scene in front of him. With a cry of rage he rushed forward, knocking Biff off the bed. "You son of a bitch," he growled as he pummeled the younger man with his fists.

Biff closed his eyes, savoring the moment as he began to move forward. Before he could complete the move, something shoved him off the bed, away from Joe. Stunned, he looked up into the furious eyes of Dale Morris. Biff had always thought himself tough, had been in his share of fights; he was no match for the enraged man pinning him to the floor.

"Oh god," Frank whispered as he took in the damage done to his brother. "Joe." He stepped closer to the bed, growing more horrified the closer he got. He was oblivious to the fight on the other side of the room as his father attempted to pull Dale away from Biff. Staring at his baby brother, he wanted to scream at his dad to let the other man do what he wanted with their former friend. How could anybody, especially a friend, do this to another human being?

Sitting down next to his brother, he reached out to brush his hair from his forehead. "Joe," he called again. No answer was forthcoming. Thinking maybe Joe was unconscious, he gently grasped his chin, turning his head towards him. Stunned, he felt his heart breaking as he took in the empty stare aimed his way, knowing his brother didn't see him.

Forgetting about his desire to see Biff pay, he turned towards the other three men. He was just in time to see his father succeed in pulling Dale away while he cuffed Biff. "Dad...Joe, he..." Frank trailed off uncertainly.

Moving as one, Dale and Fenton left Biff lying on the floor. Both men stared at Joe, horrified at what they were seeing.

"What did he do to him?" Fenton softly asked.

Frank looked up, all too familiar with the horrified tone of his father's voice. "I'm not sure but it's bad." He glanced away, unable to meet his father's eyes. "Oh no," he cried out.

"What?" Fenton asked, confused by his son's outburst.

"There's a," Frank swallowed around the lump in his throat, "jar of vaseline."

Fenton's agile mind immediately made the connection. "No, please God no."

"He didn't rape him," Dale quietly came out of his shocked stupor. Sitting on the bed, he lovingly stroked Joe's cheek. "I knocked him away from Joe before he could," he explained.

"We need to find the keys to unlock these chains."

"Hold it right there," a voice called from behind them, catching them by surprise.

Slowly turning to face the new threat, Fenton let out a relieved sigh when he saw who it was. "Sheriff, I'm Fenton Hardy," he introduced himself.

"You're the one that needed back-up?" the sheriff asked suspiciously.

"That's right, did Chief Collig tell you everything?"

"He did," Sheriff Enright replied. "I'll need to see some I.D.."

"Of course." Very slowly, Fenton reached for his wallet, holding it out to the local sheriff.

Enright looked it over carefully, comparing the picture on the card to the man standing in front of him. Nodding, he handed the card back to the detective as he holstered his gun. "This is Sheriff Enright, we need an ambulance," he called into his radio.

Fenton ignored the sheriff's conversation, as he began to search for the key that would free his son from the chains. It didn't take him long to find it, resting in the pocket of Biff's discarded jeans.

"No! You can't take him, he's mine," Biff protested, coming out of his daze as they carried Joe from the cabin a short time later.

The sheriff shook his head, disgusted with the young man who lay on the floor of the cabin. Grabbing his arm, he jerked him to his feet, leading him from the building.

Dale rode in the ambulance with Joe while Fenton and Frank followed behind in the car. Fenton knew he needed to call Laura, but not yet. He wanted to wait until they knew more about Joe's condition. Arriving at the hospital, it took him a moment to find a parking space. By the time he and Frank made it into the emergency room, Joe had been taken to the back. They saw Dale, sitting dejectedly in one of the uncomfortable chairs, his head resting in his hands.

"Dale, how are you doing?" Fenton asked as he sat beside him.

"I'm fine," Dale snapped. He sighed, it wasn't fair to take his fear and guilt out on Joe's dad. "I'm sorry, just worried."

"It's okay," Fenton assured him. Tentatively he laid a hand on the younger man's back, when Dale didn't pull away, he began to rub soothing circles on his back. "It's not your fault, you know that, right?"

"I should have been watching closer. If I had then Joe wouldn't have gone through this."

"Dad's right Dale," Frank spoke from his other side. "This isn't your fault. The only one to blame is Biff Hooper."

Frank spoke with such surety that Dale found himself believing the brunette's words. "I don't understand why he did that to Joe. How could he?"

"I don't know," came the quiet answer.

"He never said a word in the ambulance," Dale quietly told them. "I don't think he even knew where he was."

"Shock," Fenton said. "I'm sure that's all it is," he assured both of the young men beside him. Silently, he wondered if he was right. He'd dealt with enough victims to know that Joe's state of mind might be more then shock and that he might never come out of it.

"We need to call Mom," Frank said.

"I will, but I want to wait until we talk to the doctor."

Nothing more was said as the three worried men waited for news. It took less time than they had expected for the doctor to come out from the exam area. "For Joe Hardy?"

"I'm his father," Fenton quickly stepped forward. "This is his brother Frank and his friend Dale Morris," he introduced. "How is Joe?" he anxiously asked.

"I'm Dr. Milton," the gray haired doctor introduced himself. "Physically he'll make a full recovery Mr. Hardy," the doctor assured him.

"Physically?" Dale questioned.

"Yes, unfortunately at the moment he's in a catatonic state. I can't predict when, or if, he'll come out of it." Though he broke the news as gently as he could, it didn't prevent the three men before him from paling significantly.

"What exactly are his injuries?" Fenton asked.

"He has a large number of cuts and welts from being whipped, severe first degree burns over his chest and genitals as well as large areas of abrading."

"Jesus," Dale whispered.

"Was he raped?" Fenton bluntly asked.

"No, though he was penetrated by something. Judging by the marks I found, I would guess fingers." Dr. Milton paused, giving them the chance to take in all he'd told them. "I know you're probably anxious to see Joe, but it'll be a little while before he's in a room."

Fenton nodded, "Do you know what room he'll be in?"

"They can tell you at the admitting desk. The cafeteria is open if you'd like to get something to eat while you're waiting."

"Thank you doctor," Fenton acknowledged. Taking a deep breath, he turned to face Frank and Dale. "He's going to be okay, you'll see," he assured them. "Joe is too strong to let this beat him, he will come back to us."

Dale nodded, the firm conviction in the older man's words convincing him that there was hope. He knew, though, that as long as there was breath in his body he would never give up hope that Joe would fully recover.

"You boys go get something to eat, I'm going to call Laura."

"We can wait for you Dad," Frank offered.

"No, you go on Frank, I'll be there soon." He waited for the younger men to leave before he walked outside. Opening his cell phone, he dialed the number. "Laura honey, we found him, he's alive."

"Thank God," Laura breathed. Legs weak with relief, she collapsed into a nearby chair. "How bad is he hurt? What did Larson do to him?"

Fenton sighed, he'd forgotten that Laura didn't know about the recent developments. "It wasn't Larson," he began. As succinctly as possible, he explained the turn in events, telling her all he knew.

"Biff? My God Fenton, why would he do something like this to Joe? He was his best friend, how could he hurt him like that?" Laura was horrified. She could well imagine how much worse the torture must have been for Joe, knowing that it was coming from the hands of a friend.

Fenton sighed, "I'm not sure honey."

Laura nodded, forgetting that Fenton couldn't see her. "I'll be there as soon as I can," she told him. Her tone making it clear that she wouldn't listen to any arguments from her husband.

"Have Jack Wayne fly you up, it'll be faster and easier."

"Okay," Laura readily agreed, anxious to be with her baby. "I'll see you soon love," she softly said.

"I love you Laura," Fenton responded. Saying his good-byes, he ended the call and headed for the hospital cafeteria.

Exactly thirty minutes after speaking to Dr. Milton, Dale pushed open the door to Joe's hospital room, followed closely by his lover's dad and brother. Silently he slid into a chair next to the bed and picked up Joe's hand. He barely noticed the Hardy's as they took up position on the other side of the bed.

"You're safe now Joe," he softly spoke in his lover's ear. He couldn't help feeling disappointed at the lack of response. "I love you baby, please come back to me," he plead. He didn't no how long he continued to plead with his lover, never getting a response. Unaware that the Hardy's had left the room, he lay his head down on the mattress next to Joe's head, keeping a light grip on the younger man's hand. As he silently prayed to a God he wasn't sure was there, he didn't notice the return of Frank and Fenton, nor the light blanket Joe's brother laid over his back.

"He's going to be okay, isn't he Dad?" Frank whispered. His eyes never left his brother as he resumed his vigil.

"He will," Fenton promised, even as he prayed it wasn't a lie.

TBC

Sorry it took so long to update, been busier than a one-legged man at a butt-kicking contest. ;) Hope y'all liked it, please feed the muse with reviews.

A/N: I have splashed boiling water on myself. It is possible, if the water is distributed over a large area in a quick way such as was done to Joe, to receive only severe first degree burns.


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hardy Boys, not making any money, just cheap thrills.

Warning: Angst, Slash

Rating: FRT

Discoveries

Chapter 14

Dale hurried towards Joe's hospital room, his pace just short of running. He'd left work the moment Frank called with the news. The memory of his co-worker's stares as he whooped for joy brought another grin to his face. It had been two weeks since they'd found Joe and for most of that time Dale had been back at work. He hadn't wanted to return, but he couldn't afford the time off. He was just grateful that the Hardy's could afford to have Joe transferred to the Bayport hospital. At least that way he could see him every day after work, and all day on the weekends.

When Dale had reluctantly returned to work, he had been afraid that Joe would wake up when he wasn't there. The only thing he feared more was that he might not wake up at all. As time passed that fear grew, until he was sure he had lost Joe forever. Day after day he sat next to Joe's bed, holding his hand and quietly talking to him; assuring him that he was safe. It made no difference. The blond never responded, never showed any sign that he was even aware of Dale's presence.

Dale nodded to the officer standing guard outside Joe's room. It had been a week since Biff Hooper made bail. By the time the paperwork was finished and the bastard had been released, an officer had been stationed at the hospital. Luckily there hadn't been any need for him so far. Dale hoped there never would be. He put his hand on the doorknob and took a deep breath. Slowly pushing it open, he stepped inside the room. "Joe," he whispered. Tears prickled his eyes as his lover's blue eyed gaze turned to him. Though Frank had told him that the blond was awake, he hadn't really believed it until this moment. For the first time in two weeks, Joe looked at him and knew he was there; Dale let go the breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

Laura gently cleared her throat, catching Fenton and Frank's attention. A small tilt of her head and they quickly left the room. She smiled softly as they said their goodbyes to Joe and Dale, their words, she was sure, not heard by either boy. Leaning down, she kissed Joe's cheek. "We'll be back in a little while honey."

Joe's gaze tore from Dale, settling on his mother's face. "Mom? Where are you going?" he fearfully asked. He couldn't be alone with his lover, but he couldn't admit that he was afraid of what would happen. What if Dale hated him now? What if he was only here out of a sense of obligation? What if he had come just to tell him that they were through? He knew it was cowardly, but he couldn't face that right now, not alone at any rate.

The fear in Joe's eyes broke Laura's heart, though it didn't surprise her. She'd read everything she could find in the last two weeks on sexual assault and they all agreed that fear, shame and guilt were the most common reactions for the victim. Victim, the word screamed weakness and vulnerability, words she couldn't associate with Joe. Mentally she changed the word to survivor, instinctively knowing that if Joe were to heal they had to remind him of his strength and not let him dwell on his perceived weakness. Pushing aside her natural need to protect her baby, she leaned closer to whisper in his ear, "It'll be okay Joe, you boys need some time alone."

"What if..."

"Shhh, he loves you, I promise," she assured him. Sliding off the edge of the bed, she turned towards the door. Offering Dale a supportive smile, she quietly left the room.

He quickly looked away, dropping his eyes to the blanket. Nervously his fingers began to play with the edge of the cover, plucking and pulling at the binding.

Watching the younger man, Dale felt his anger towards Hooper rising once again. He swore that if the bastard somehow made it into the room right now, he would put him through the wall before he had the chance to even say a word. Cautiously he stepped closer to the bed. Looking down at the man he loved, Dale wished he knew what to say that would calm the obviously nervous blond. "Joe..."

"I'm sorry," Joe spoke simultaneously.

"Sorry?" Dale stared at his lover in shock. Why would Joe be apologizing? Carefully sitting down on the edge of the bed, he gently picked up his lover's hand, stopping the nervous tugging of the blanket. Dale sighed as the silence stretched on, "Joe, talk to me please," he plead.

Joe stared at their hands, his mind desperately trying to make sense of what was happening. Didn't Dale hate him? He didn't sound like he did, his confusion over Joe's apology evident, as was the love in the gentle way he held his hand. Was it love though? Maybe he was just trying to break his rejection as kindly as possible. Yeah, that sounded like something Dale would do. But what about his questioning the apology? He obviously didn't feel it was needed, wouldn't he, if he was angry with Joe over what had happened? The soft plea jerked his attention back to the older boy. He was surprised to see the worry and pain in Dale's eyes. He couldn't resist the plea or the pain, "What do you want me to say?"

Dale winced at the dead tone of Joe's voice. The man he loved should never sound like that. Joe was full of life and love, his voice should carry that message to any who heard it. "Let's start with why you're apologizing," Dale somberly replied.

"What do you mean why? Don't you know what I let him do to me?" Joe demanded. Please don't make me say it Dale, he silently plead.

"Aw baby," Dale whispered, pulling Joe into his arms. He held on, in spite of the flinch his touch brought. "You didn't let him do anything Joe. Everything that bastard did is on him, not you."

"You don't blame me?" he asked in a small voice.

"Do you blame me for letting you get kidnapped?"

"Of course not!" Joe nearly yelled.

"Why not? I promised to protect you," Dale reminded him.

"There wasn't anything you could do."

Dale shook his head, "I should've known he was there..."

Joe hugged him tighter, "It's not your fault love, please don't beat yourself up over what he did."

"If you really believe that, then why are you blaming yourself for what he did?"

For a moment Joe remained silent. He understood the point Dale was making, but didn't he know that what happened in that cabin was different? "That's different," he finally mumbled.

"It sure is," Dale agreed. "What he did to you is a hundred times worse than the headache he gave me." Gently he caressed Joe's back . "Joe, baby, you were chained to the bed and naked. You were completely helpless, unable to defend yourself in any way. There is no way this could be your fault, please believe me."

"I should have known that he was only pretending to be okay with us. I should've been able to reason with him, if I had he wouldn't have..." Feeling as though he had no right to the comfort Dale offered, Joe pulled away from his lover's embrace and wrapped his arms around himself. Breathing in large, gasping breaths, he fought the tears which threatened to fall.

Dale stared at his lover, horrified by the enormous guilt the younger boy was taking on himself. He had to get through to him, had to make him understand the truth. Biff Hooper was a crazy, spoiled, obsessed bastard and the only one to blame for what had happened. "Joe, why do you think you should have known?"

"I've known him since we were little kids. He used to be my best friend, I should've seen there was something off with him."

"How long has Frank known him? How long have your other friends known him?" Dale relentlessly questioned the younger boy, determined to make him see the truth.

Joe shrugged, "Almost as long as I have."

"Then why didn't they see that there was something off?"

"They don't know him as well as I do," Joe weakly offered.

"That's wrong Joe and deep down you know it. Nobody saw that there was anything wrong, because Biff Hooper didn't want them to see it. There wasn't anything you could have done."

"I could..."

"No Joe," Dale firmly cut him off. "The boy is crazy and you can't reason with a crazy man. I bet you tried to talk him out of it, didn't you?"

Joe reluctantly nodded, confirming Dale's theory.

"It didn't work though," Dale went on, "which is not your fault. Please believe me Joe," he begged.

Joe swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat, "I'll try," he whispered.

Dale sighed, "It's a start. Can I hold you now?" he gently asked. A smile crossed his face as Joe dropped his arms and leaned into his embrace. "Thank you."

Joe spent several minutes soaking up the love and comfort Dale offered. It felt so good to be held in his lover's embrace, though he wasn't sure he deserved it. "Dad said it's been a couple of weeks since I was found."

"Yeah," Dale softly confirmed. "I'm sorry we didn't find you sooner."

"From what Frank said it's lucky you found me at all," Joe quickly absolved his lover. "What happened to Biff?"

Dale drew back, looking at Joe in surprise, "Didn't your dad tell you?"

Joe shook his head, "He didn't get the chance."

"He was arrested and charged with kidnapping, assault and sexual battery." He hated to tell him so bluntly, but he couldn't think of any other way to get the words out.

The coldness in Dale's voice sent shivers down Joe's spine. "Is he still in Vermont?"

"No, he was brought back to Bayport."

There was an undeniable tension in the room, telling him there was something else. "What aren't you telling me?"

Dale heaved a deep sigh, "He was released on bail a week ago." Rubbing the suddenly tense back of his lover, he went on. "There's been a police guard on your door since then. He won't hurt you again baby, I swear it."

Joe nodded, letting himself believe the promise for the moment. "What happens when I go home?"

"I'm sure your dad has something in mind."

"But you don't know what?"

"No, we haven't talked about it yet. You know him better than I do though, don't you think he'd have a plan already worked out?"

"Yeah, I guess he would. Do you know when I'll get out of here?"

"I'm not sure, but from what the doctor said the other day it'll probably be within a day or two of you waking up."

"So tomorrow, or the next day?"

"Probably."

"Will you be with me?" Joe mentally winced at the timid sound of his own voice. He'd never felt so vulnerable and weak in his life. Even when Iola died he hadn't felt like this. How he wished he could let his anger at Biff take over, let it give him the strength he needed.

"I wouldn't dream of being anywhere else," Dale assured him.

A motorcycle sat in the parking lot across the street, it's rider staring intently at the hospital entrance. He had heard the cops talking about Joe's condition while he was in jail. The moment he'd been released, he had headed for the hospital. He had to see the other blond; didn't they understand that Joe needed him? Obviously that was why he had retreated into his mind. He must feel so lost, wondering where Biff was and why he'd abandoned him before they could come together for the first time? In anger, the stocky blond kicked a rock. "They have no right to keep us apart," he growled. An unexplainable itch between his shoulder blades had him turning his head. He wasn't really surprised to see Frank Hardy watching him from the sidewalk in front of the diner that most hospital visitors ate at. Sighing heavily, he reluctantly climbed on his bike and rode away. "Don't worry darling, we'll be together again...soon."

TBC

I'm so sorry for the long delay in posting. The muses haven't been wanting to talk to me lately, I think they don't like the stress of RL. A couple of weeks ago they spoke and I wrote part of the chapter, then the computer ate it and they got miffed again. ;) I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter, please feed the muses with reviews.


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hardy Boys, not making any money, just cheap thrills.

Warnings: Angst, Slash, Violence

Rating: FRT

Discoveries

Chapter 15

Through narrowed eyes, Frank watched the motorcycle pull away. Suddenly a hand clamped on his shoulder, making him jump. Damn it Hardy, pay attention! he cursed himself as he turned his head. "Hey Dad, ready to head back?"

Fenton smiled, "After you tell me what's going on?"

"Going on?" Frank asked, his expression as innocent as he could make it.

Fenton's smile widened, "Yes Frank, what were you watching?"

Frank sighed, "You noticed that, huh?"

"Well I am a detective," Fenton teased. A weak chuckle was his only reply, at first, just as he was about to become more insistent that Frank answer him, his son began to talk.

"I saw a motorcycle down the street. I think it might have been Biff," he reluctantly admitted.

"Damn," Fenton sighed. "Why do you think it was Biff?" Though he trusted Frank's abilities and judgement, he couldn't ignore the possibility that the worry over his brother might be affecting him.

Frank considered the question carefully, "I'm not sure, but I do know that Biff has a motorcycle and the guy was staring pretty hard at the hospital."

"Still, that's not very conclusive."

"No, it's not," Frank had to agree. "But, he did take off as soon as he realized I was watching him."

Fenton frowned, "That is suspicious and even if it wasn't Biff, it won't hurt to err on the side of caution. You know what this means..."

"Joe isn't going to like it."

"I know, but I don't see what choice we have." Fenton shook his head, it angered and saddened him that, at least until Biff's trial was over, Joe would be the one to suffer the most.

Frank glanced up and down the street, never letting his awareness falter as they talked. "What about Dale? He has a job, he can't just walk away from it."

"Actually I had an idea that might mean he won't have to worry about his job."

Frank shot his father a puzzled look, what could he possibly have in mind.

Fenton smiled, it was always nice to be able to keep a step ahead of his sons. Something that was becoming more difficult with each passing year. "I noticed that, in spite of his fear for Joe, Dale kept a level head during the search for your brother."

"He did," Frank acknowledged.

"I've also seen some of the pictures he's taken, he's very good. I don't know if he'd be interested in becoming a detective, but it could be handy to have a photographer on staff. I know I've had cases where I really needed photographic evidence, which I lost because I'm not a professional."

"But dad, Joe is a photographer too."

"True, however, if you and he are working a case of your own, he might not be available. It won't hurt to make the offer, and if he wants to become a detective as well, I'll offer him an apprenticeship."

"It'd be a lot easier for him to join Joe in a safe house," Frank admitted. "God knows it'd be easier to get Joe to agree to a safe house if Dale could be with him."

Fenton nodded, "What do you say we go see your brother and talk to Dale?"

The sound of the door opening, had Dale on his feet, ready to protect Joe from whatever threat might be coming into the room. He sighed softly, relieved when he saw who it was. "Mr. Hardy, Frank," he greeted.

Fenton smiled, though he wouldn't have chosen for one of his sons to be gay, he could at least take comfort in knowing that Joe had found someone who truly loved him, "Hello Dale." Moving into the room, he sat down next to the bed, giving his son a small smile. "How are you feeling Joe?"

"I feel fine Dad, when can I go home?"

Frank chuckled, typical Joe, anytime he was in the hospital, the minute he woke up he wanted to go home. "You don't want to go home today Joe."

Joe looked puzzled, "I don't?"

"Nope," Frank replied, making sure to keep his face serious.

"Why not?"

"Why else Joe? They're serving tuna casserole for lunch, you wouldn't want to miss that," he teased.

A look of horror crossed Joe's face, "You have to get me out of here Dad, please." He'd had tuna casserole, once, and he'd sworn he'd never eat it again. The thought of the horrible dish he remembered coming from a hospital cafeteria was a horror he didn't want to think about.

Fenton laughed, "Frank's teasing you Joe, they're serving chicken soup and peanut butter sandwiches for lunch."

Joe glared at Frank, "Very funny big brother." Turning back to his father, he returned to his original question, "But seriously Dad, when do I get to go home?"

The smile left Fenton's face, "Actually Joe I need to talk to you about that."

Joe was instantly alert, sitting up a little more in the bed. "What's wrong?"

Dale frowned, he'd seen the look exchanged between Fenton and Frank. Unsure of what it meant, but certain that Joe wouldn't like it, he did the only thing he could. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he picked up Joe's hand, silently offering his support.

"We think Biff may be watching the hospital and I want you to go into a safe house until after the trial." Fenton matter-of-factly explained, mentally bracing himself for the objections to come.

Joe sighed, he should have known. "What about Dale?"

Fenton exchanged a concerned glance with his oldest, this wasn't like Joe. Where was the vehement protest? The assertion that he wasn't a child and could take care of himself? "He can stay with you," he replied, letting his concerns go, for now.

"I want to Joe, but I don't see how I can," Dale jumped in. "I'd have to leave every day for work, Biff could easily follow me back to the safe house."

"Not if you weren't going to work," Fenton pointed out before Joe could reply.

Dale looked at him, stunned at the suggestion. "They won't give me that much time off, I'd lose my job."

"Actually Dale, I have an offer for you that will negate that problem."

"Go on."

"I noticed, when Joe was missing, you kept your cool. You stayed back, let us and the police handle the investigation..."

"I'm not a detective, I would have been in the way and might have destroyed a clue accidentally," Dale interrupted. He didn't want Joe to think, for even a second, that he didn't care enough to help look for him.

"I know Dale, and that's my point. I can't tell you how many investigations I've seen, over the years, hampered by well-meaning friends and family of a victim. The fact that you were able to stay calm and keep your head, in spite of your fears for Joe, says a lot about you. It also brings me to what I'd like to offer you. I understand you're a pretty good photographer?"

"Yes sir," Dale proudly replied. They could think he was conceited if they liked, but he knew he was good with a camera.

"I'm not, and there are times, quite often, when I need photographic evidence for a case. Evidence I've been known to botch because of my lack of skill as a photographer. I want to offer you a position as a photographer for me, and if you're interested in learning, an detective apprenticeship."

Dale's jaw dropped, "Are you serious?"

"Very," Fenton replied with a smile.

Dale looked down at Joe, "What do you think?"

"It's up to you, it would be nice to work with you again."

"If I take the offer, I'd be able to stay at the safe house with Joe the whole time?" Dale asked.

"Yes," Fenton confirmed, "but you shouldn't accept the offer for that reason only."

"No, I mean I'm interested," he quickly clarified, wiping the disappointed look from Joe's face. "I just wanted to make sure I understood everything. I'll take it," he added with a smile.

Fenton smiled, reaching for his hand, he shook it. "Welcome aboard son."

"Thank you sir, I'll make sure you don't regret it."

"I'm sure I won't," Fenton nodded. "I'll just go get everything ready," with that he left the room.

Frank sat down in the chair his father had vacated. "You okay Joe?"

"Yeah, why?"

Frank sighed, "It's not like you to accept a safe house."

Joe shrugged, "Did you want me to argue?"

"No, but I was prepared for it, so was Dad." Frank wasn't going to lie to his brother, their relationship was too important for him to risk it on a lie. "You want to talk about it?"

"Talk about what?"

"Whatever's bothering you enough that you'll let Dad hide you in a safehouse, without argument."

Joe blew out a frustrated breath, "You'd think you'd be glad I wasn't arguing."

Frank sighed, "I am glad Joe, but I'm worried too."

"Maybe I'm just growing up, maturing," Joe suggested. He hated worrying his family, but he didn't want them to know just how scared he was. He doubted that he would ever forget the things Biff had done to him, the feel of his...stop it Joe! Don't think about it, don't remember, he admonished himself.

"Joe," Dale gently called his name, the growing silence was beginning to worry him. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Joe snapped. "I wish everybody would stop asking me that," he growled.

Dale took a firm grasp on Joe's chin, turning his face to him. "We're just worried Joe, there's no reason for you to bite my head off."

Joe nodded, "I'm sorry, you're right."

Lowering his head, Dale brushed his lover's lips in a gentle kiss. "You're forgiven," he smiled, "just don't let it happen again."

Joe smiled, "Yes sir."

"Now, are you going to answer your brother's questions?" Dale frowned when, rather than answering, Joe simply turned his head away. "Joe, baby please talk to me, to us."

"Look there's nothing wrong, okay...it's like I said, I'm just growing up, realizing that sometimes it's better to play it safe."

Dale wasn't sure what to make of that, maybe Joe was being truthful, but he had the feeling there was more to it than that. Deciding to drop it for now, he turned the conversation to lighter topics, allowing them all a respite from their worries.

TBC

Hope y'all liked it, you know the routine, the muse if hungry for reviews.


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hardy Boys, not making any money, just cheap thrills.

Warnings: Slash, Angst

Rating: FRT

ohayoo gozaimasu (Good Morning in Japanese)

Discoveries

Chapter 16

"I'm glad you agreed about going to a safehouse Joe," Fenton said as he helped the blond into the passenger seat of his sedan. The mumbled reply was nearly inaudible, bringing a smile to the detective's face. Straightening to his full height, he closed the door, looking around for any sign of Biff. Satisfied that his son's former friend wasn't around, he slid behind the wheel and drove away from the hospital.

Biff sat on his motorcycle, hidden from Fenton's view by a van as he watched his love being helped into the car. Judging by the way he was moving, he had healed pretty well, though he did seem to be stiff and certainly not up to full strength. That was to be expected though, after all he'd been laying in a hospital bed for over two weeks. Watching him, Biff was grateful for all of the cases he had helped the Hardy brothers with. It was that experience, he was sure, that allowed him to follow their father as he drove Joe towards the safehouse. "Don't worry Joe, I won't let them keep us apart," he sent unheard assurances towards the man he loved.

Fenton drove in what appeared to be aimless circles, occasionally glancing at his companion. "Looks like we've picked up a tail," he told him.

"Just like you expected," the young man sitting in the passenger seat smirked. "How much longer do you think it'll take for the boys to get to the safehouse?"

"Shouldn't be long now, then we can head back to the station and you can get back to work," Fenton replied. He had been surprised when Dale had suggested this plan. It was a clever plan as well as serving to reassure him that he'd made the right decision in offering Joe's boyfriend a job.

_"Mr. Hardy I've been thinking about something," Dale had said only the day before._

_"What is it Dale?" _

_"Well it's likely that Hooper will try to follow whoever takes me and Joe to the safehouse, right?"_

_Fenton nodded, impressed that the inexperienced man had realized this on his own. _

_"If that happens then Joe won't be any safer there than he would be at your home or my apartment."_

_"True, but I don't think you need to worry. I've been in this business for years, I don't think Biff is going to be any trouble to lose," Fenton assured him._

_"You're probably right, but anybody can get lucky and, well I'd feel better if we didn't have to worry about losing a tail," Dale nervously explained. He didn't want to insult Joe's father, but if it was a choice between possibly offending the older man and keeping Joe safe, Fenton would just have to be offended._

_"You've got something in mind?" Fenton asked, secretly pleased at the younger man's determination to protect Joe._

_"Yes sir, I was thinking if we could find somebody about Joe's build and coloring, then you could take that person out of the hospital. If Biff tries to follow you, make it look like you're trying to lose him or just pretend you don't see him. Either way, it would keep him busy while Frank takes us to the safehouse." Dale spent a few anxious moments waiting for the older Hardy's reaction to his plan. _

_Fenton nodded, "It's a good plan and I think Chief Collig probably has an officer who will fit the bill."_

He remembered the surprised look on Dale's face at the compliment. It hadn't taken long to find an officer who could pass for Joe from a distance. Now they only had to wait until Frank called to say he had gotten Joe and Dale to the safehouse. As if his thoughts had summoned him, his oldest chose that moment to call. "Frank, everything settled?" he asked without preamble.

"Joe and Dale are at the safehouse and I'm heading home now. Did you pick up the company we expected?"

"He's behind me now," Fenton replied, a tight smile forming on his face. "I'm going to take Officer Clark back to the station and then I'll be home."

"Okay, see you soon."

Biff shook his head in confusion, why were they turning back towards town? Giving a mental shrug, he automatically turned with them, making sure to stay far enough back that he wouldn't be spotted. "What the hell?" His confusion growing, Biff parked his bike, watching as the man in the passenger seat climbed out of the car. "Damn them," he snarled the moment he got his first good look at the blond he had thought was Joe.

Fenton pulled away from the curb and headed for home, he wasn't surprised when Biff again followed him. As before he made no effort to lose the boy trailing him. Driving his normal route, he soon arrived at his home, pulling in next to the boys' van.

"Hey Dad," Frank smiled, "Everything go okay?"

"Just like Dale planned," Fenton grinned, for a second resembling his youngest. "What about on your end?"

Frank nodded, "Went fine, they're settled in and have enough groceries to last a couple of months. I just wish we could see them between now and the trial."

Fenton grew serious, "I know son, I do too but this is the best way to keep them safe and you can call Joe anytime you want."

"Yeah I know, it's just going to be hard. It's a good thing Biff won't have access to the equipment needed for bugging our phones."

"A very good thing," Fenton agreed. "I want you to do one more thing," he continued.

Frank shot his father a questioning look, "What else is there?"

"I want you to go to the mall tonight and publicly complain about the fact that I won't tell you where Joe is."

"You think Biff will try to follow me?"

Fenton nodded, "I'm sure he will."

"It's not as if it will do him any good," Frank shrugged.

"Still I'd rather he believes that you don't know where Joe is."

Frank frowned, why was his father insisting on this? "There's more to this than worrying about Biff following me, isn't there?"

Fenton sighed, he should have known Frank wouldn't be fooled. "I'm worried that when he realizes you're not going to the safehouse, he'll get the idea to force the location from you."

"Torture you mean?"

"Yes Frank that's exactly what I mean and I won't risk it," Fenton firmly replied.

"But you'll risk yourself," Frank frowned. "No Dad, you can't ask me to risk him going after you for the information."

The older Hardy breathed out a heavy sigh, "Frank be reasonable, I've got training you don't have, I have a better chance of being able to handle Biff than you do."

"And I'm younger," Frank countered, "no offense Dad, but you're not exactly in the prime of life."

"Perhaps not, but experience can easily win out over brute force and that's really all Biff has going for him."

Frank shook his head, "I won't do it."

"Franklin Hardy you will..."

"No Dad, I'm not a child you can order around," Frank interrupted in a firm tone.

"You don't go anywhere alone," Fenton insisted, recognizing a losing argument when he saw it.

Frank nodded, surprised that his father wasn't giving him more of a fight.

Three days later Biff was losing patience. He couldn't believe that Frank wasn't making any effort to go visit his brother. He had to be doing it in the middle of the night when it would be harder to follow him without being spotted, it was the only explanation. This would be a lot easier if he could put a tracker on the van, but he didn't have the money for something like that, nor could he build one. The only person he knew who could was Phil and there was no way he would help Biff to find Joe. There had to be a way, Biff thought, tapping his fingers impatiently against the handlebars of his motorcycle. Just then the front door of the Hardy home opened, revealing Mrs. Hardy with her purse on her arm, she was obviously on her way out. A smile spread over Biff's face, he should have thought of it before.

He was sure that Mrs. Hardy would know where the safehouse was and she'd be the easiest to tail. More importantly, because nobody would expect him to trail her, there was no reason for her to avoid going to the safehouse even in the daytime. Two hours later, he was cursing as they arrived back at the Hardy home from the grocery store. Damn, he'd been so sure that she was headed to Joe. Even when she went to the store, he'd told himself she was just picking up some things to take to her son. It was only when they were obviously headed back to Elm & High streets that he admitted he'd been wrong.

Biff slammed his hand down on the top of his gas tank! This was getting him nowhere. He couldn't do this by himself, not unless he could find a way to get his hands on some sort of electronic spying devices. Unfortunately, he didn't have the money and the only one of his friends who might have agreed to help him no longer lived in Bayport. Biff snapped his fingers, a grin spreading over his face, that was it!

Convinced that Frank wouldn't go to the safehouse during the day at least, Biff pulled away from the curb and headed for home. He had an overseas phone call to make.

Vanessa raised her head, glaring first at the phone and then the clock. Who could be calling her at seven in the morning? Aware that the rules were different here in Japan, she stomped down on the urge to snap at her early morning caller. Taking a breath, she picked the phone up, "Ohayoo gozaimasu," Vanessa greeted.

"Um, can I speak to Vanessa Bender?" Biff asked uncertainly, had he dialed the wrong number?

Vanessa grinned, "Biff Hooper is that you?" she asked excitedly. "Oh no, has something happened? Is Joe okay?" she quickly asked, the only reason for Biff to call hitting her like the proverbial bolt from the blue.

"Well not exactly," Biff replied. "He's not hurt, but he is in trouble and I need your help to get him out of it Vanessa."

"What can I do?" Vanessa immediately asked, never considering saying no.

"When was the last time you spoke to Joe?" Biff asked. He needed a minute to think, he'd been in such a hurry to call Vanessa that he hadn't thought about what he would say once he reached her.

Vanessa thought about that, she'd been so busy adjusting to life in Japan that she hadn't even realized how much time had passed. "It's been a few months I guess. Please tell me what's going on Biff? Why isn't Frank calling me if Joe's in trouble?"

Biff took a deep breath, "Because Frank doesn't realize Joe is in trouble and I can't tell him."

Vanessa's puzzlement grew, "But you can tell me?"

"I promised Joe I wouldn't tell his family or any of the gang, but then I realized that since you're not living here anymore, technically you might not be considered part of the gang now."

"Go on," Vanessa encouraged her old friend. It hurt to think she wasn't really a part of the gang anymore, and she had to remind herself that Biff was just using her distance from Bayport as a loophole so he could help Joe.

"After you left, well Joe didn't date anybody for a long time and then he met somebody that took him by surprise."

Vanessa blinked back the unexpected tears, it wasn't as if it was a surprise that Joe was moving on. Besides, she wanted him to move on, didn't she? "That's a good thing, isn't it?"

"It might be, except that the reason Joe didn't expect to fall for this person is because...Vanessa, Joe thinks he's in love with a man," Biff quietly broke the news.

"He's what? Is this some kind of joke Biff?" Vanessa's mind reeled with the completely unanticipated news. Joe couldn't be gay or bi-sexual...no way, not the Joe Hardy she had known.

"I wish it was Nessa," Biff spoke softly, his tone serious and solemn. "I don't guess that would be so horrible, weird and hard to get used to, but not horrible, except this guy isn't any good for him." Biff chose his words carefully, he needed Vanessa to believe she was helping Joe and since he wasn't sure how she would react to the idea of Joe being gay, he quickly opted for another route.

"I'm surprised Biff, I wouldn't expect you to be so accepting of a change like this in your best friend."

"I won't say I reacted well at first, but it was just the shock you know? You don't have a problem with it do you?" Biff wasn't sure what to make of the prolonged silence that followed. He was just about to say something more when Vanessa began to speak.

"Well it's hard to believe, but I've never had anything against ho...homosexuals," she stuttered. It was more difficult than she would have imagined to get the word out when it was being used in reference to Joe, he had always been such a ladies man. "You said this guy isn't any good for him, what did you mean?" Vanessa asked, bringing the conversation back on track.

Biff licked his lips, this was it, he only hoped he could pull it off. "He's hurting Joe, I don't guess it started out that way. He seemed like a real nice guy when I first met him, but then I started seeing bruises and now with Joe away at college it makes it easier for Dale to hurt him. I'm worried about him Nessa," he added, his voice thick with emotion.

Vanessa gasped, she couldn't imagine Joe letting anybody get away with hurting him. When she remembered, however, the guilt he tended to take on himself whenever somebody he cared about was hurt, it became easier to imagine. He would let it continue, wouldn't he, if he thought he deserved it and she knew most abusers convinced their victims that it was deserved. "You should tell his family Biff," Vanessa immediately advised.

"I can't, I promised him I wouldn't tell. They don't even know he's with a guy Nessa, Joe's terrified that they'll hate him if they ever find out."

Vanessa sighed, "What can I do?"

Biff smirked, "Dale has convinced Joe to move off campus and he's stopped attending classes."

"How do you know that?" Vanessa asked, becoming suspicious for the first time.

"Huh? Oh, I didn't tell you we're attending the same college?" Biff quickly covered his mistake.

"No Biff you didn't. Okay, so you think this Dale character is keeping Joe away from his classes? Won't the Hardy's get suspicious when they find that out?"

"No, because he hasn't dropped out, he's just switched to all online classes. This guy has him almost completely isolated Vanessa."

"Almost?"

"He's still able to send emails, but from some of the things he's said I don't know how much longer that will be. I don't even know where he's living, he can't tell me because Dale doesn't like anybody to come over," Biff completed his lie. "That's where you come in, I can't go to Phil because then I'd have to explain why I needed the help and I won't break my promise to Joe if there's anyway to avoid it."

Vanessa nodded, even though Biff couldn't see her. The mention of Phil was enough for her to put things together, adding two plus two and quickly getting four. "You need a tracking device so you can find out where Dale has taken Joe?"

"Exactly, do you think you can help me to help Joe?"

"Of course I can Biff, it'll take a little while to get everything together and then I'll have to ship it," she explained. "I'll get it to you as fast as I can."

"Thank you Vanessa, you're a lifesaver," Biff grinned. Yes! Thank God for gullible girls.

"Thank you Biff for doing what you can to help Joe. Please keep me up to date on what's happening with him," she pleaded.

"I will Nessa, good-bye." Biff disconnected the call, a satisfied grin on his face, "Soon Joe we'll be together; and nobody will ever keep us apart again.

TBC

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	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hardy Boys, not making any money, just cheap thrills.

Warnings: Slash, Angst, Violence

Rating: FRT

Discoveries

Chapter 17

It had been ten days since he'd spoken to Vanessa and Biff was once more anxiously checking the mail. She had called him two days after he had contacted her, with the news that she had mailed what he needed and a reminder to keep her up to date on Joe. He'd been checking the mailbox every day for the past five, with no results. He grinned when he saw a small box, post-marked Japan. Finally, he'd be able to find Joe.

**********

"Hey little brother," Frank smiled as his brother's voice came over the line. He wished he could see him in person, but he understood why that wasn't possible. He'd just have to live with it, at least it wouldn't be much longer.

"Frank," Joe grinned. "Everything okay?"

"Better than okay."

"What do you mean?" Joe asked.

"The prosecutor was able to get the trial date moved up. You'll be able to come home sooner than we thought."

"Oh, that's good."

Frank frowned, he didn't like the subdued tone Joe's voice had taken on. "Don't you want to come home Joe?"

Dale had only been listening with half an ear to Joe's end of the conversation. Nevertheless, the change in his lover's voice caught his attention, bringing him into the kitchen where Joe stood, leaning against the counter.

"Of course I do Frank," Joe quickly affirmed. "It's just, well I'm not in any hurry to testify," he admitted, leaning against Dale as he spoke; he was grateful for the support.

Frank felt like smacking himself. "I'm sorry Joe, I should have realized..."

"Don't Frank, you're not a mind reader."

Frank smiled, that was just like Joe. He was always quick to forgive. Frank envied that ability in his little brother. Sensing that Joe could use a change in subject, Frank deftly steered the conversation towards ordinary topics. They talked for a while longer of everyday things, the older boy catching the younger up on what their friends were up to. Too soon for both of them the conversation dwindled to a halt and they were saying their good-byes.

"You okay baby?" Dale softly asked, pulling Joe into his arms.

Joe leaned his head on his lover's shoulder, "Yeah."

Dale wasn't convinced, "You sure?"

Joe smiled, pulling Dale down for a soft kiss. "I'm sure. Like I told Frank, I'm just not in a hurry to testify, but I will. I'm not going to let him get away with what he did to me."

"Good," Dale whispered. In spite of his lover's words, Dale could feel Joe trembling as he held him close. "Come on," he said, pulling away, but keeping his hand wrapped around that of his lover.

"Where are we going?" Joe asked.

"You'll see," Dale winked.

"Dale," Joe playfully whined.

"Joe," Dale returned, his voice holding the same playful whine. Glancing at Joe, he bit back a laugh at the mock pout on the younger man's face. He wondered if his lover had any idea how sexy he was when he did that. Probably, he quickly decided upon spotting the twinkle in Joe's deep blue eyes.

Joe followed Dale, the whole time wondering what he was planning. He had learned, early in their relationship, that he couldn't predict what his lover might come up with next. A couple of minutes after leaving the kitchen, they were stepping into the master bedroom.

"Take your shirt off and lay down so I..."

Joe could see Dale's lips moving, but he had no idea what he was saying, it was as if his hearing had turned off after the first part of the sentence was spoken. Unconsciously, Joe began to shake his head, taking a step away from his taller lover.

Dale saw the panic setting in. Cursing himself for not realizing how Joe might take his words, he quickly moved to block the door. Just in time he stepped into the doorway, grabbing Joe's upper arms as he tried to leave. "Stop it Joe," he firmly ordered, ignoring the desire to simply hold him close while murmuring soothing words in his ear. Soothing could come later, first he had to convince the blond to stop fighting him.

Joe struggled in the larger man's hold for several minutes, but eventually he was forced to accept that he wouldn't break free. Sagging in Dale's arms, he sighed, resigned to accepting whatever his lover wanted.

Dale felt torn between the desire to comfort Joe and the desire to kill Biff Hooper, slowly and painfully. As he could have predicted, giving his younger lover the comfort he needed won out over everything else. "Joe look at me please," he spoke softly, infusing his voice with all of the love he felt for the man in his arms. "Do you trust me?"

"Of cccourse," Joe stuttered.

"Then why are you shaking worse than a toddler confronted with a clown?"

Joe blinked, "A clown?" he asked, the absurdity of the analogy catching him off guard so that he forgot his fear long enough to give Dale the chance to explain.

Dale nodded, "I only want to give you a massage gorgeous."

"A massage?"

"A massage," Dale confirmed. "That's not what you thought was it?" he gently asked.

Joe shook his head, "I'm sorry. I know you'd never hurt me, I don't know why I reacted like that." He dropped his eyes to the floor, seemingly fascinated by the piece of carpet between them.

Dale sighed, "You don't have anything to be sorry for Joe. I should have started off by telling you that I wanted to give you a massage. It's no wonder you misunderstood what I meant."

"Don't," Joe bit out, pulling away from Dale and moving to the other side of the room.

Following after him, Dale stopped, at a signal from Joe, half-way across the room. "Don't what?" he carefully asked.

"Don't make excuses for me."

"I'm not, " came the immediate protest.

Joe shot an incredulous look his way, "Of course you are, but I don't deserve your understanding."

Dale frowned, "Why do you say that?"

"You're kidding? I just treated you like you weren't any better than B...him. How can you say that it's okay to do that to you?" Joe asked, his voice rising. "You've been nothing but good to me from the moment we met. You even forgave the lies I told you, accepting that they were necessary for the job, and this is how I repay you? Acting like you were going to tie me to the bed and.... God," Joe moaned, wrapping his arms around himself, "how can you be okay with me treating you like you're going to do the same thing he did?"

Dale ached to take Joe in his arms, to comfort him, but he forced himself to wait. "Because I love you and I know you don't really think I'm going to hurt you. I'd be more worried if you weren't reacting like that."

Joe looked up at that, "What do you mean?"

"You were put through hell by somebody you had thought, only a few days before this, was your friend. Your best friend from what you've told me?"

Joe nodded, admitting the truth of Dale's words.

"It doesn't take a shrink to know you're going to be upset for a while, afraid of people getting too close, even me and your family. If you were acting like you did before the kidnapping I'd be thinking there was something wrong with you."

"But I've always been able to bounce back before," Joe protested, referring to the many times he'd been kidnapped by enemies of both him and his father.

Dale sighed, silently asking for the right words from whatever deity was listening. "How many of those people were your friends?" He took a step forward, moving closer to Joe, smiling in relief when his lover made no effort to stop him. "You have every right to take however long you need to recover, please believe that baby."

"I don't want you to get tired of waiting," Joe admitted in a barely audible voice.

He didn't wait for an invitation this time, rushing forward, he closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around Joe and holding him close. "I love you Joe, I could never get tired of waiting for you."

Joe shuddered, burying himself in his lover's embrace. "What if I never get past it?"

"You will," Dale assured him.

"But what if I don't?" Joe persisted.

"Then I'll still love you."

Joe drew back enough to look Dale in the eye, he gasped in surprise at what he saw. "You really mean that, don't you?"

Dale nodded. "When I said I love you Joseph Hardy, that included all of you baby, the good, the bad, and well can't see there ever being any ugly, but that too." As he'd hoped, the last part of his declaration brought a small laugh from his lover. "How about that massage now?"

"Yeah," Joe sighed, offering the older boy a small smile. He didn't know how he had gotten so lucky, and as Dale led him to the bed, he silently promised them both that he would find a way past this. He wouldn't let the actions of his former friend ruin his future with the man he loved.

Biff waited impatiently for the lights at the Hardy house to go out; forcing himself to wait another thirty minutes after that. Finally satisfied that the family was asleep, he quietly crept up to the van Frank shared with his brother. He was aware that the black van had a state of the art alarm system, and he was prepared for that. As he slipped the tracking device under the back bumper, he smashed the back window with a crow bar, before running for the bushes in the backyard of a nearby house. From his hiding place, he watched as Frank and his father came running outside, cautiously scanning the yard and surrounding areas for any threat before moving past the porch. He could hear them talking and as he had hoped, when they saw the broken glass they assumed it was a simple attempt to break into the van, perhaps to steal it. Mr. Hardy sent Frank inside to call the police, neither of them even thinking to look for a tracking device. "Soon Joe, soon we'll be together and nobody will ever take you from me again," he whispered his promise into the dark night.

The alarm was turned off and neighbors began to spill from their houses, curiosity overcoming fear now that they were sure any threat was gone. As the crowd grew, Biff used the opportunity to slip away, the only witness to his passage, a large tomcat perched on a nearby fencepost.

TBC

Hope y'all liked it, please feed the muse with reviews.


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hardy Boys, not making any money, just cheap thrills.

Warnings: Angst, Slash, Violence, Character death

Rating: FRT

Discoveries

Chapter 18

Vanessa picked up the phone for the fifth time in an hour. In the days since her conversation with Biff, doubt had begun to creep in. Was she doing the right thing in keeping silent? She knew that Biff meant well and of course he had promised to keep Joe's secret, but what if this situation was more than he could handle on his own? Was it really a good idea to keep Joe's problem from his family? Should she leave his safety in the hands of a boy she had always known to be rash and impetuous? Shaking her head, she finally decided that she couldn't keep quiet. If Joe hated her for revealing his secret, then so be it. Mind made up she dialed the phone.

Frank jumped, the ringing phone taking him by surprise. Hoping everything was okay with Joe, he quickly picked up the phone, certain that any call at this late hour couldn't be good news. "Hardy residence," he greeted the caller.

"Frank?" Vanessa timidly asked. Once again uncertainty reared within her, causing her to question her decision.

It took him a moment to place the familiar voice. He groaned inwardly when he realized who it was. "Hi Vanessa, what's up?" he asked, hoping he sounded casual. He really wasn't looking forward to telling the girl about the changes in Joe's life.

"Um," Vanessa hesitated. She hadn't really considered how to start this conversation and now that she was faced with it, she was at a loss as to how to continue.

Frank frowned, "Is everything okay Nessa?"

She nearly broke down at the familiar nickname. "No Frank it's not. I need to tell you something and I'm not sure how, so could you just listen and not interrupt?"

"Okay, go on," he encouraged the obviously upset girl. Frank listened with growing anger as Vanessa hesitantly related her tale. By the time she reached the end of the story, he was fuming. "That son of a bitch!" he cursed.

Vanessa nearly dropped the phone, shocked by the uncharacteristic language being used by the elder Hardy brother. She couldn't really blame him, after all it isn't everyday you are told your brother is in an abusive relationship.

"Vanessa I appreciate you telling me this and your willingness to help Joe, but, honey, Biff lied to you," Frank informed her, as gently as he could.

"Lied to me?" she asked in surprise. Frowning, she wondered if she wanted to know. "What's happening there Frank?" she finally inquired, curiosity winning out.

It was Frank's turn to be hesitant. He hated to tell Vanessa the truth, he knew it would probably hurt and anger her on several levels. The fact that Biff had used her to get to Joe would be the least of it. "You don't have to worry about Biff finding him though, none of us are going to the safe house so there isn't anybody for him to follow." He knew his brother would want him to assure the girl he had once loved that she hadn't endangered him in any way. Truthfully, he needed Vanessa to understand as well. It wasn't her fault that she had been duped. Biff had told a very convincing story, one that led her to believe she was honestly helping Joe.

Vanessa was so angry it felt as if her blood had turned to ice. Had Biff Hooper stood in front of her at that moment she would have gladly skinned him alive. If it were within her power, he would suffer twice the pain he had caused for Joe. "I'm so sorry Frank, I had no idea," she apologized, her voice thick with unshed tears.

"It isn't your fault Nessa," Frank assured her. "Actually I think you're a pretty amazing girl," he truthfully told her.

"Yeah, amazingly naive," she sarcastically bit out.

"Amazingly beautiful, inside and out. I know you loved Joe and he loved you, but how many girls would be willing to help their former love escape from an abusive homosexual relationship? Most girls would probably be angry that their ex-boyfriend was now seeing a man."

"Well it was a shock," Vanessa admitted. She was embarrassed by the way Frank was going on, as if she had done something extraordinary.

"I'm sure it was," Frank acknowledged. "You didn't let that stop you from wanting to help him, did you?"

"No."

"So, you won't be beating yourself up for letting Biff fool you?" Frank asked in a serious tone.

Vanessa swallowed hard. "I'll try not to," she said; it was the best she could offer.

"Good enough," Frank smiled. "You've helped too."

"I have?" She didn't see how she had helped.

"Now that we know about the tracker, we can set a trap for Biff. Hopefully, when faced with new charges the D.A. will be able to convince him to take a plea deal. I know Joe is determined to testify against him, but it'd be a lot easier on him if he didn't have to."

"You're right," Vanessa agreed. "It would hurt Joe so much to be forced to tell strangers what Biff did to him. After everything he's been through, I'm not sure he could stand up under the strain."

"That's what worries me too," Frank whispered. "It worries my parents as well, though they haven't said anything to me. I can see it in their eyes when they think nobody's looking."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Vanessa quietly offered.

Frank smiled, somehow he wasn't surprised by the offer. "You already have Nessa, thank you."

Vanessa nodded, forgetting for a moment that Frank couldn't see her. "Will you tell Joe I'm happy he found somebody to love?"

"Of course I will," Frank quickly agreed. "I know he'll be glad to hear that you're happy for him."

Vanessa smiled sadly. She was genuinely happy for Joe, but a part of her couldn't help feeling sad for the loss of what might have been. "Thank you Frank. Good-bye." Without another word she hung up the phone, afraid that if she remained on the line she would lose all control, embarrassing them both.

****************

Frank looked in his rear-view mirror, though he didn't know what he thought he would see. He knew Biff had a tracker on the van, so there would be no need for him to follow closely. Nevertheless, his eyes continually strayed to the mirror, as if he would be able to spot him. He hoped their plan worked, Joe needed this nightmare to be over with so he could get on with healing. "It'll work, it's a good plan," he told himself for the hundredth time.

When he had told his father about the call from Vanessa, the older man had been livid. For a minute, Frank had actually been afraid that Fenton would give himself a stroke, he was that angry. Luckily the eldest of the Hardy men had years of experience at reining in his own formidable temper. After he had calmed down enough to talk, the two of them had hashed out the particulars of a plan that would hopefully guarantee Biff's long stay in prison, without the need for a trial.

It had taken a few days to get everything together. The first step, and the one they'd feared would be the hardest, had been convincing Chief Collig to go along with the plan. Surprising them both, Collig had agreed to the plan almost before they had finished presenting it to him. In fact, Frank admitted ruefully, the chief was almost gleeful in his acceptance of the plan. Even with the chief on board, it still took time to set up the trap that would, they hoped, bring an end to this drama.

With help from the same young officer who had posed as Joe before, they had set up a _safe_ house for Biff's benefit. The plan was really very simple. Frank would drive to the safe house, ostensibly to drop off supplies for Joe and Dale. Carrying a bag of groceries, he would walk into the house, taking care to look for signs of anybody watching him. Once inside, he would exchange jackets with Phil Cohen. Close to the same size, from a distance it would be hard for Biff to tell the difference. Frank had argued long and hard with his father and the chief before they allowed him to stay. Finally they had given in when they realized that they were never going to succeed in convincing Frank to stay behind. After Phil left, _Joe_ and _Dale_ would move to the living room, taking up residence on the couch as if they hadn't a care in the world.

They didn't know exactly what Biff would do, once inside the house, but they suspected he would attack _Dale. _They, of course, had no intentions of allowing him to carry out the attack. The attempt would be enough to bring further charges, which would, hopefully, lead to a plea deal.

Unfortunately they underestimated Biff's patience. Frank, his father and the decoy officers waited for several hours for Biff to make a move. Finally they decided he wasn't going to try anything tonight. He probably wanted to wait until tomorrow, give himself a chance to check the place out before he made his move, they theorized. Still, they didn't know if he might be watching and with that in mind, the decoys turned off the living room light, and made their way upstairs. Taking advantage of the darkness, the Hardy's slipped into the guest room, where they would be out of sight if Biff were watching the house.

An hour later, Biff finally slipped inside the front door, using skills he'd learned from the Hardy's to gain entrance. Creeping stealthily, he slowly moved up the stairs towards the room in which his love lay. He'd show them. They couldn't keep Joe from him. They belonged together, soon Joe would see that for himself.

The first thing he noticed when he stepped into the bedroom, was the presence of two beds, each with a single occupant. He smiled, Joe knew he didn't belong with Dale. It was the only explanation for why they wouldn't be sharing a bed. Moving quietly, he made his way to the bedside of his love, kneeling next to the bed. "I'll make you so happy Joe," he whispered. Pulling a syringe from his pocket he continued to talk, telling the man in the bed of his plans for him, as he prepared to dose him with a powerful sedative. He hated to knock him out, but even if Joe wasn't sharing a bed with Dale, he couldn't take the chance that he might resist leaving with him.

Officer Clark had heard enough, as Hooper picked up his arm, he suddenly came to life. "Bayport police, you're under arrest," he firmly informed the young man, flipping on the bedside table as he sat up. He wasn't really surprised when Biff shoved him away and tried to run.

He didn't get far, Officer Lewis, the other man in the room grabbed the stocky blond from behind, throwing him against the wall and grabbing his wrist. What happened next, neither man was completely sure of. One minute Lewis had Hooper pinned, the next the officer was on the floor with a furious Biff Hooper standing over him, the officer's own gun in his hand.

The door to the bedroom suddenly flew open, and two voices rang out warning Hooper to drop his gun. The boy turned, firing his gun towards the figure at the door. The shot was quickly followed by two more, each from a different direction. It would be a few days before they determined whose bullet had ended Biff's life, Fenton Hardy's or Officer Clark's. For now, it was enough to know that the young man who had terrorized his former friend would never be able to hurt him again.

*****************************

It had been two month since Biff's death. With his death, Joe was able to start focusing on healing, just as Frank had predicted. It hadn't been easy to convince him to talk to a counselor. Joe had always been action oriented, talking wasn't as easy for him, especially talking to a stranger. Dale had finally suggested that they go together, after all they both had issues to deal with, thanks to Biff. Knowing that he would have his lover to lean on, Joe finally agreed to see a counselor. It had been slow going at first, very little progress being made due to the blond's inability to discuss what Biff had done to him.

The turning point had come when he finally admitted that he could barely say the word rape to himself, let alone to anybody else. It was hard to say who was more surprised. Dale, discovering that Joe thought he had been raped, or Joe upon discovering he hadn't been. From that moment on, the younger man made great strides in his recovery. Learning that his former friend had failed to steal the joy of his first time from him, had been the key to Joe's healing.

Both Dale and Joe had made progress in dealing with their inner demons. Enough progress, that Joe had decided that he was ready to take the next step in his relationship with the slightly older man. Humming to himself, he lit the candles on the table and turned off the lights. Asking his brother to call him when Dale left the house, where he was now working as an apprentice to their father, Joe knew his lover would soon be home.

Joe had ordered their favorite meals from a local steakhouse, which were being kept warm in the oven. Candles on the table, soft music playing in the background and fresh sheets on the bed completed his plans for seduction. Dale had been wonderful, and determined that he wouldn't rush Joe. Frustratingly determined, in fact, but Joe was equally determined that tonight he would make love to the man he had given his heart to.

Dale was surprised and disappointed to see the apartment dark, he'd been sure Joe would be here. Sighing in resignation he unlocked the door and stepped inside. He froze, a smile forming on his handsome face. Moving into the dining nook, his smile grew at the sight of Joe, his face lit by soft candlelight. "This for me gorgeous?" he asked, his voice husky.

"Nope," Joe shook his head, closing the distance between them. "It's for us," he whispered, claiming his lover's lips in a soft kiss, filled with promises of what was to come.

"Joe?" Dale asked.

"I want you Dale, please don't turn me away."

"Are you sure?"

Joe smiled, wrapping his arms around Dale's neck. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

"So, the candlelight?"

"I ordered us steak dinners from O'Malley's, thought we could have a nice romantic dinner."

"Yeah?" Dale smiled. "So what's for dessert?"

Joe grinned, "Me of course."

Dale gave a low growl, covering Joe's lips in a passionate kiss. "Dessert first," he decided, scooping Joe up in his arms.

"What about the steaks? They'll get dried out," Joe pointed out. The answering grin he received took his breath away. "We'll order pizza," he smirked. Leaning his head against Dale's shoulder, he sighed with contentment as his lover carried him from the room.

The End

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